Of Lilies and Thorns
by fuxfell
Summary: Sequel to Of Mice and Men. Lily is finally back home - in safety. Or so she thinks. And a certain ranger has sworn revenge. Rated M for the usual reasons.
1. Prologue

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

The cat made its way quietly through the silent streets of the Trade Ward.

Although the sun had sunk merely an hour ago, most people had already returned to their homes and this part of the ward looked almost deserted. A movement caught the eye of the cat, and it stopped, its shoulders tensing as it lurked in the shadows of the buildings that lined the street.

Its gleaming eyes were now fixed on the mouse that had just stepped out of a small thicket, obviously searching the ground for some seeds. The cat lowered slowly towards the pavement, ready to leap at its unsuspecting dinner… as the barking of a dog echoed between the high buildings, and the mouse looked up, its dark eyes wide, and hurriedly retreated into the safety of the thicket, leaving its secret observer behind.

The cat cast an indignant look at the spot where the rodent had just vanished, but then simply continued on its way, aiming for one of the buildings farther down the street, passing several shop windows on its way. Every man or woman who could afford an apartment or store in this part of the city had already come to modest wealth, be it either by hard work, luck or a surprising inheritance, and could find comfort in the knowledge that he or she wouldn't have to fear for anything in their lives anymore.

The windows of one of the shops on the first floor were still lit, casting a bright light onto the displayed goods and the pavement, but the cat passed it without as much as a glance, entering a narrow path between the houses that led to a small garden in the back. A large tree grew there, and it took the cat less than a dozen heartbeats to climb up towards an open window on the second floor, its paws making no sound when it entered the dark living room behind it, the chamber only sparcely lit by a trail of light coming from a narrow doorway at its back, leading to the adjacent room.

The cat made its way quietly between the few but exquisite pieces of furniture, stopping only for a moment to flex its claws on the thick Calishite carpet that covered the floor and then slipped gracefully through the gap between the door and the frame into the light behind.

The room looked like a study. Cupboards and shelves filled with books lined the walls, dimly lit by the light of two oil lanters that stood on a large wooden table. A man sat at the desk, his back to the door, and the only sound that penetrated the silence was the soft scratching of a quill on parchment. The cat hopped gracefully onto the table, mewling softly, and the man looked up, a smile softening the harsh lines of his bearded face and smothering the unpleasant glint in his dark eyes.

"Hello my dear", he murmured, lovingly stroking the cat's grey fur. It purred and stretched under the touch. "Did you have a pleasant evening?"

"And what about you, Greyburgh?", asked a soft voice from the door. The man jumped. "Did _you_ have a pleasant evening?"

The man whirled around, one of his hands reaching reflexively for one of the drawers of the desk but relaxed as soon as he seemed to recognize the figure that now stood in the doorway.

"Sir", he greeted with a sharp nod of his head, his voice cool.

The figure stepped farther into the room, lifting his slender hands to throw back the hood of his cloak. Long, silvery blond hair framed a young face which would have been exceptionally handsome, hadn't it been for the cold, greyblue eyes that now wandered lazily through the room, taking in the various books and items on the shelves. The man called Greyburgh cleared his throat.

"Please, forgive my somewhat… hastened reaction, but you startled me."

The young man's eyes returned to the man at the desk.

"Really?", he asked softly, an amused smile curving his lips. Strangely enough, the other man seemed to tense almost imperceptibly at the sight of the smile.

"I have a question for you, Greyburgh", continued the young man, his voice still pleasently light. He slowly sauntered closer, the hem of his cloak swirling lazily behind him.

The man eyed the new arrival warily.

"Yes, sir?", he asked after another moment of silence, and his voice betrayed nothing of the nervousness one could suddenly see in his eyes.

"Tell me, my friend:

How it is possible that I had to pay no less than the small fortune of ten thousand gold for your reliable agent – not to mention the sum of additional five thousand gold to bribe that wizard to send the various search teams astray every time my mother demanded another scrying – just to have my sister return to my family's house at the break of dawn, alive and in excellent health?"

The man called Greyburgh looked aghast.

"_What?_"

"Oh yes", the young man replied calmly, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes. "When I left, her fiancé had just returned from his post in the woods." His eyes remained cold, watchful. "You should have seen their reunion – it was such a touching scene, it almost warmed my heart."

Without warning, he slammed his hand hard on the desk, and the man called Greyburgh jumped, his eyes wide. The cat gave a soft, hissing sound and hopped off the table, retreating under a close cupboard.

„Do you think this was an easy decision for me, Greyburgh?", the young man ask, his voice sharp. "To kill my own sister for the good of the family?"

The other man swallowed hard. "Sir, I know if you had seen any other way…"

"_You_ said that man was reliable, Greyburgh", the young man hissed, his eyes now ablaze with cold fury. "_You_ said that he was worth the coin, that your source had sworn that he was the best for these kind of assignments."

"And it's true, sir", stammered the other man, single beads of sweat now forming on his forehead. "I made some descreet inquiries after our first meeting, and that man's reputation in certain circles was truly impressive…"

"But _how_ are you explaining my sister's miraculous escape, then, if that man was as unscrupulous as his reputation?", the young man continued, his eyes still ablaze.

The man called Greyburgh gulped visibly, his wide eyes fixed on his visitor.

"Sir… I…"

"Do you know what story she has been telling, Greyburgh?", the young man continued as if he had not heard the other man's attempt to present an explanation. "She said that she had been held captive for a ransom, and that she had only seen the face of her captor once, for she had been forced to wear a hood most of the time. An elderly man, with a dark, silverstreaked beard and dark, greasy hair… does that match the description of your man?"

The other man's eyes narrowed in confusion. A single droplet of sweat slowly trickled down his cheek, but he didn't seem to notice.

"No, sir."

The young man leaned closer.

"Did you make it clear that he was supposed to work _alone_, Greyburgh?", he demanded urgently. "That utmost descretion was in order?"

The man called Greyburgh looked taken aback for a moment, his mind obviously working feverishly as he stared up into the cool eyes of his vis-à-vis.

"I… I think…"

The young man's eyes narrowed, and for the length of a heartbeat, something close to disgust flickered across his sharp features.

"You are getting careless, Greyburgh", he stated cooly, sounding more than a little displeased. "Do you know what your little botch has cost me?"

The man called Greyburgh shook his head, his hands now gripping the edge of his seat so tightly that his knuckles stood white against his skin.

"Not only that small fortune in gold and jewellery, but now dear Cedric is also determined to hasten their marriage. So, instead of getting married next spring, they are now planning their union for this autumn… which means I have less than four months to avert that misfortune without causing any attention, and now my parents are so concerned about poor Liliana's safety that she can go nowhere without a personal guard, as long as her kidnapper hasn't been found and arrested."

His cold eyes bore hard into the elder man's face.

"I am not pleased."

And with that, he turned around and made for the door.

"But, sir", exclaimed the other man, wringing his hands as he hastily got up from his chair, "that means we still have time to act." His voice was pleading now. "Let me contact my sources, we will find a way to solve that dilemma, I promise you that…"

"No, Greyburgh", the young man interrupted softly, and at the strange undercurrent in his voice the other man paled noticeably. "You have done enough already. I think it is time that I take these matters into my _own_ hands."


	2. Best Served Cold

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

The walls of Waterdeep loomed in the distance.

Sitting on a boulder in the shade of a small copse of trees in the early morning sun, Bishop regarded them thoughtfully, chewing on a blade of grass he had heedlessly ripped from the earth.

It had been three days since the little mouse had given him the slip, leaving him looking like a dunce. Three days of following the tracks of the cart that had taken her from his immediate reach. Three days to think about how to proceed from here.

He had to admit the wisest course of action would have been to take the money he had already been given and make it out of here. He shrugged inwardly. No one had ever accused him of being wise. Wise men probably led very boring lives.

And while his temper had cooled down considerably in the course of these three days, he had no intention of letting her get away with the trick she had played on him. His temper might have cooled down, but his rage, while cold, had not diminished in the least.

Again, the unwanted and somewhat fuzzy memory of himself, kneeling before her, blubbering like an idiot while she played him for a fool, emerged in his mind, and his eyes narrowed nearly imperceptibly.

Cooled, yes. Diminished, no.

And that was just as it should be.

Because, as they said, revenge was a dish best served cold.

The corner of his mouth curled up in a nasty imitation of a smile while he contemplated his further steps.

Of course, his first impulse had been to jump in, weapons drawn, and leave a trail of blood in his wake. But now, after almost three days of forced scheming, he had decided to take things a bit more slowly. Since he had been denied the satisfaction of immediate payback, he might as well make the best of the situation. Draw things out, make them last. And enjoy himself as long as he could.

He'd take his time. Observe first, and then decide on a course of action.

For a moment, he thought of Karnwyr. He'd sent his companion away, partly because he was still furious with him for letting the girl slip away, and partly because he did not want to take him into the city. First, the wolf hated being inside city walls – a feeling Bishop could very well relate to. Second, a wolf in a city drew exactly the sort of attention he wanted to avoid.

For what he had in mind, he'd have to keep to the shadows.

The unpleasant smile still playing on his mouth, he got up from the boulder, shouldered his backpack again and stepped out into the sunshine, to cover the last miles that separated him from the city ahead, whistling a jaunty tune on the way.

xxx

He found the house with no difficulties. It was just a bit removed from the Court of the White Bull, where caravan owners peddled their fare, beggars and buskers mingled with vendors, purchasers, onlookers and passers-by. The hustle and bustle of the Trades Ward of Waterdeep multiplied a hundredfold on the large plaza of packed dirt. It was a perfect place for hiding in the open. No one would notice him in midst of all that fuss.

Having left his stuff at the Grey Serpent Inn, just two blocks away from here on The Way of the Dragon, one of the main roads that cut through Waterdeep's Trades and South Ward from north to south, he sat down and settled against the wall of one of the adjacent buildings, pretending to be one of the many drunks drawn to this place, seemingly fallen asleep sitting on the ground.

Just another indescript figure in the crowd.

His head leaned against the dirty brick wall behind him, he seemingly closed his eyes and observed the tall, four story building he knew to be the home of his mysterious would-be employer through a narrow slit between his eyelids. The basement held a couple of stores, noticeably a cloth store and one that sold pottery and glassware, and the three upper stories held apartments, where the fairly well-off, but not exactly rich of the city made their homes.

A typical building for the Trades Ward – well kept, but nothing extraordinary.

Now, Bishop knew his contact to live here. What he did not know was in which apartment he lived. That would be the first thing to find out. After that, he could pay him a visit. And have a... talk.

_After_ he had found out who employed his employer.

It was late afternoon already, but Bishop resigned himself to a couple of hours of waiting before his target returned home from work. And as expected, the early summer sun had already sunk beneath the horizon when he saw the familiar figure walking down the street, coming from the north.

Probably he was working for someone in the North Ward. It made sense – many of the richer citizens of Waterdeep lived there, including the really well-off merchants. And had the little mouse not mentioned something of her father being a tradesman? Hmmm.

Bishop watched the man entering the house, and a few minutes later a window in the second story lit up.

So far, so good.

xxx

The next morning found Bishop in exactly the same spot, the first rays of the rising sun warming his face under the hood that covered his hair. He'd got up early while it was still dark outside, because he did not want to miss his man as he left his house for work.

And sure enough, only a couple of minutes later the tall, lanky, black-clad figure left the building and hurried along the narrow streets, heading north.

Smiling, Bishop got to his feet, stretched contentedly, and slowly started to follow his would-be employer through the alleys, which still lay mostly in shadow until the sun had risen further. It was perfect – even if the man turned, which he did not seem to have any intention of, Bishop would not have any difficulties to hide himself.

But the man did not turn, he just hastened along the streets, as if afraid to be late. Soon, he passed the southern gate and entered the City of the Dead. Here, with no tall buildings to ward off the sun, the morning was bright and beautiful.

For a moment, Bishop hesitated at the gate, reluctant to leave the shadows. His eyes took in the lush green scenery before him. The City of the Dead, the town's cemetery, had grown to be something like a city ward on itself. It surely was big enough to be one. Surrounded by sturdy walls, whose gates firmly closed at night to keep the occasional undead in, it strangely was one of the most beautiful places in Waterdeep.

Park-like, with rolling lawns, shrubs and groups of ancient trees, artful, marble tombs scattered among the greenery, it had ironically become something like a recreation area for the citizens. Even at this early hour, there were already people about, taking a stroll, sitting under trees, talking, laughing, discussing.

Enough people around so that he would not stand out as he followed his prey. Besides, in here, amidst all that green, he could make use of his camouflage.

Without further hesitation, Bishop entered the cemetery and quickened his steps until he had his quarry firmly in his sight again. Casually, he scanned his surroundings. There was surprisingly much free space, teeming with lush greenery, for the cemetery of such a large city.

Bishop had heard somewhere that when Waterdeep threatened to run out of burial space, they had resorted to burying their dead in extraplanar pockets, the gates to which could be found in the larger tombs. Mages. What would they think of next? Why not just burn the dead and discard the ashes in a heap somewhere? Who cared about dead bodies enough to go to such lengths? Ah well, if the city wanted to squander good money on stupid things like that, it was none of his business. Not his taxes going to waste, after all.

Would they bury the mouse in such a pocket after he was done with her? Or was her family rich enough to afford a real tomb, maybe even a crypt? If there was enough left of her worth to be buried, that was.

The thought made him grin.

Enjoying the sun on his face, he followed the man past tombs of all sizes and styles, some old and crumbled, some new and well cared for, and past a pompous monument of a group of heavily armed and armoured men and women, forming a circle with their backs to each other and fending off a small army of trolls, goblins, orcs and barbarians, all of which fell under the powerful blows of the warriors in the middle. Above the group, a rider on a griffon fought alongside the supposed heroes.

Bishop snorted. What pathos. It was disgusting. And he could not even begin to imagine what magics where involved to keep that stone griffon in the sky.

After a few more turns and bends of the path leading through the greenery, his quarry exited the City of the Dead through a gate leading north. Bishop looked about and decided that they indeed had entered the North Ward. The streets were broader, the buildings large and richly decorated, they held no stores and obviously no apartments, but were the homes of the richer families of the city. Many of them had gardens or even small parks surrounding them.

The man he followed still headed north and eventually entered a small, crooked alley, leading along a high stone wall, broken only by a massive yet beautifully wrought two-winged iron gate. Through the gate, Bishop could make out a small gatekeeper's house, a bit of lush greenery and the beginning of a broad gravel driveway, probably leading up to the mansion the park had to belong to.

Whoever lived here did not have to worry over money for sure.

No one beside Bishop and his prey was around in this alley, which seemed to lead nowhere but the iron gate the man headed for. Bishop suddenly felt exposed and looked around for some place to hide, but the smooth stone wall surrounding the park offered no shelter. The other side of the alley consisted of smaller buildings, and they did not seem more promising, either.

And his camouflage ability was completely useless in a surrounding like that. There was more than one reason why he hated cities.

Luckily, the man did not turn around, but stepped up to the gate and called out for the gatekeeper to open it. Bishop heard slow, uneven steps crunching on the gravel of the driveway, then one wing of the gate opened surprisingly smooth and without so much as a creak. A slightly wavery old man's voice said:

"Good morning, Mr. Greyburgh. You come in, the young master is expecting you already."

Greyburgh. So he had a name to put to his employer after all. The young master...?

This was getting interesting. Was this where the princess lived? It truly seemed like the surroundings to breed such a useless, prissy specimen like her. And the young master might be the brother she loved to boast about.

Bishop smiled. No brother was going to save her from his wrath, that much was certain. If the brother knew what was good for him, he'd keep out of the way.

If he'd even want to save her. Which was becoming doubtful.

After the man called Greyburgh had entered through the gate, Bishop waited for a couple of minutes until he was sure the gatekeeper had returned into his hut. Then he passed the gate, allowing himself one glance at the mansion lying beyond, a large, ample villa, with a beautifully decorated facade, a flight of half-round stairs leading to a gleaming wooden portal, flanked by half-pillars made of pink marble, and indeed surrounded by an extensive park.

Walking on briskly so he would not seem to be watching the house, Bishop speculatively eyed the wall surrounding the park. It was clear he would not be entering through the gate. Not without drawing attention to himself.

Hmmm. About ten feet high. Challenging or even unsurmountable for most people. An inconvenience for him. He just hoped they had deemed the heigth enough of an obstacle, and not thought of spiking the top of the wall with shards of glass or other nasty surprises.

He jumped and was relieved when his fingers found only smooth stone. Making use of the momentum of the jump, he pulled himself up and threw one leg over the top of the wall.

_Real nice of them not to put anything sharp on here – there are parts of my body I'd hate to cut._

Lying flat on the wall, he surveyed what lay beyond. As he expected, a park. Artificial nature, all carefully groomed trees, shrubs and hedges cut to resemble animals or into geometrical shapes, nicely cut lawns and painstakingly raked gravel paths winding amongst all. He snorted. Well, at least it was no rose garden.

After a swift, but thorough look around, he dropped down on the other side, into the park, landing in a crouch and catching his weight on his hands. Lifting his head, he scanned his surroundings once more, but still, nothing moved. Through the trees, he could see the walls of the house, a small distance away.

This was so much better. Even artificial nature would allow him to conceal himself to the extent where it would be very difficult to detect him for anyone not running into him directly.

A low growl and a rustle in the bushes made him turn his head, to see a huge, black dog emerge, its hackles raised, and its teeth bared.

Unless that someone was a dog not relying on vision, naturally.

Bishop cursed silently. Seemed like the people living here did not just count on their wall, after all. The manner of the dog approaching him made it clear that this was not the kind of dog that did bark, but not bite. The way it crouched showed clearly that it was ready to pounce.

_Well, then. Let's see who's the bigger and badder animal hereabouts._

With a growl that echoed that of the dog, Bishop stayed crouched, his hand reaching slowly for the dagger in his boot. His teeth bared as well, he kept growling and stared hard into the animal's eyes, clearly conveying a warning – and a challenge.

The dog stopped, maybe two yards from him, and its growling ceased abruptly. For endless seconds, it stared into Bishop's eyes, then it carefully retreated some steps, lowering its flews to cover its impressive teeth, and dropped its head with a soft, whining noise, abasing itself, offering its throat.

Clever animal. If only people had that much good sense.

Bishop pushed the dagger back into his boot and got up. Bending down, he patted the dog's head once before he made his way to the house. From now on, the dog would not bother him again.

xxx

Leaning against the trunk of a large oak tree, camouflaged against any possible observers, Bishop took in the exterior of the building.

It really was impressively large, two stories high, with huge, arched windows and a couple of balconies with artful, wrought-iron railings in the second story. At the back of the house, a large terrace surrounded by a stone balustrade opened to the park. In the distance, he could see water glittering in the sun.

He lifted his head and looked up when he heard the sound of a door opening from the balcony above him. Seconds later, a familiar figure stepped onto the balcony, closely followed by someone he did not know.

Her hair was pinned up in an elaborate _coiffure_, and she wore a simple, but obviously high quality and expensive dress in a soft shade of blue. The material shimmered and might well have been silk.

She was beautiful. And he hated her.

Gnashing his teeth and fighting the urge to climb up to the balcony and throttle her right away, Bishop turned his eyes to the man with her. He had short black hair, but his pale complexion revealed that he spent most of his time indoors. His face was pleasant, might even have been called good-looking by someone who liked that sort of effete, wimpish looks. He was dressed in a white, seemingly linen shirt under an expensive looking doublet of some thick material, maybe brocade, lined with golden embroidery.

Bishop snorted quietly. This did not look like any brother of the princess. Maybe the illustrous Cedric himself?

"I am so happy you could stop by", the melodious voice of the girl reached his ear.

The man smiled. "Me, too", he answered, took her hand and kissed it softly. „I missed you. I was afraid I would never see you again. So now that I got you back, I want to spend as much time with you as possible. I'm afraid you'll just disappear again if I let you out of my sight."

"Silly", she said with a smile. "I won't disappear. My parents won't even let me leave the house without Jackson following me around. What can happen to me, in broad daylight, with my own personal bodyguard?"

Bishop smiled grimly. What, indeed?

"Will you go to the Font of Knowledge again today?", the man asked, not sounding reassured at all.

She put out her chin a bit. "Yes", she said, defiance in her voice.

The man sighed. "I just don't understand", he said. „You never were much for studies, and now you spend all your time pouring over history books."

She was silent for a moment.

"Do you remember what I told you about that argument with my mother?", she answered quietly. "About me and my musical studies?"

"Yes", the man replied with a gentle smile. "I do."

"It's just... I have been thinking about it again, you know? Me, becoming a bard?"

"Still,", the man said, a small frown on his face. "I don't understand why you're doing it."

"Well", she answered, somewhat airily, "if I really want to become a bard, I still have so much to learn. It's not just about songs and music, Cedric - a bard has to know so much more!"

"I know that, my love. Just... you and I will be married soon. Why would you want to learn a profession? I can give you anything you need, anything you want. You won't have to work, ever." His voice held a slightly pleading note.

Married? So that really was the famous Cedric himself. Bishop eyed the man with renewed dislike. Was that the kind of man she preferred? On the other side, he'd suit a prissy little princess like her quite well. Pity she would not live to see the day of her marriage.

"Please, Cedric", her voice reached him again. "Let us not discuss that right now. We have so little time together, and you know Nedda will be here soon, because we must not be alone for too long. Can you not think of a better way to spend the time we have?"

Bishop could see the goofy smile on Cedric's face and gnashed his teeth.

"Come to think of it, I do", the other answered, with oily sweetness. It made Bishop sick. He watched, as Cedric bent his head and his mouth searched for the lips of the girl, who raised her face to meet him.

Bishop felt fury rise.

_So this is the man whose kisses you prefer to mine? What a pansy, indeed. Well, I never thought much of your taste anyway. Enjoy yourself while you can, princess. It won't last long, that I promise._

"Liliana?", another female voice reached his ear, faint and slightly muffled, as if coming from behind a door. "Your mother wants to see you, child. And your carriage is waiting for you, Mr. Silverton."

Cedric lifted his head and smiled down on the girl, that stupid grin still on his face. "Pity", he said. "Duty is calling. But I'll see you tonight?"

"Yes, tonight", she replied, returning his smile.

Then she went back into the house, with Cedric on her heels. Bishop growled softly, but swiftly turned when he heard a rustling noise from the bushes behind him. But it was only the dog, standing some steps away, ears flattened back, and its stubby tail wagging furiously.

Bishop smiled with satisfaction.

"Come here!", he commanded, and the dog trotted up to him immediately.

"Sit!" The dog sat.

„Lie down!" The dog obeyed.

"Well, well, well", Bishop murmured and bent down to scratch the animal behind the ears. "At least you won't give me any trouble, will you, boy? Next time, I'll bring you a big bone. That should keep you occupied for a while."

xxx

He spent the rest of the day in the city, buying some much needed things. Like new shirts. And a new pair of breeches, since his second pair was gone. And a bag of doggie treats for Karnwyr. The wolf just loved those.

_Spoiled cur_, Bishop thought with a reluctant smile. He never could stay furious with his companion for long.

In the late afternoon, he made his way back to the Court of the White Bull, and the house where the good Mr. Greyburgh lived. It should be some hours still until he returned from work, but better to be safe than sorry.

He circled round the house and was pleased to find a large beech, growing in the backyard. It would be no problem to reach the window of the apartment. But he'd have to force the window, and that might draw attention...

A mewling noise made him look up again, and he saw a large, grey cat emerge from said window, jump into the tree and swiftly make its way to the ground. It threw him a disinterested glance, mewled again and sauntered away haughtily.

Bishop grinned. "Thanks, my dear", he muttered. "So nice of you to let me know the window is open. And how careless of our dear Mr. Greyburgh. Honestly, some scoundrel could make his way into the apartment like that..."

Without further hesitation, he climbed the tree and disappeared through the window.

When Mr. Greyburgh entered his study this evening, he was surprised to find someone sitting at his desk, feet propped up comfortably, ankles crossed, cleaning his fingernails with a dagger.

Bishop looked up and smiled. "Good evening to you, Mr. Greyburgh", he said with a purr.

He watched the other man's face as surprise gave way to recognition, closely followed by panic. Greyburgh turned, ready to bolt, but froze as the dagger imbedded itself into the wall, quite close to his face, with a dull noise. He watched, face pale, as the hilt quivered with the force of the impact.

"Don't try to run, Mr. Greyburgh", Bishop said softly, his second dagger already in hand. "The next one goes into your throat. Sit down."

White as a sheet, the man turned back, opening his mouth.

"Oh, and better don't try to scream, either", Bishop said, just as softly. "You might draw a lot of attention. And somehow, I don't think that's what your employer would want. But if you think differently... just go ahead. I guess the guard would be _very_ interested in some of the things I might have to say."

Greyburgh grew even paler, and closed his mouth.

"Quite", Bishop said, still smiling. "And now", he pointed to the visitor's chair in front of the desk with the dagger, "sit. And let's _talk_."

xxx

An hour later, he washed his hands in the washing bowl on Mr. Greyburgh's chest of drawers, a small frown on his face.

He'd learned some very interesting things. Nothing really surprising, but still, it was good to be sure. Now he'd need some time to think, to decide what best to do with that information.

He emptied the bowl of pink water out of the window before he put it back, and then left the way he had come. When he met the cat, returning into the yard from its evening stroll, he bent down to pat its head, and continued on his way, entering the nightly streets of Waterdeep.

He would take a walk, mulling over what he had just learned, think of how to use that information best. Then, he would return to the inn for a good night's rest.

And tomorrow, he would pay a visit to the little mouse.


	3. Metamorphosis, Part I

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

Liliana determinedly searched her way through the crowd that populated the market place. Now that the first days of summer had finally arrived, all of Waterdeep seemed to be out on the streets and wandering the Castle Ward, browsing the merchants' wares and enjoying the performances of the showmen that now lined the streets as the great fair of the season had finally begun.

She cast a small gaze over her shoulder and saw Jackson walking right behind her, keeping a watchful eye on the crowd that surrounded them, one of his hands almost casually closed around the hilt of his sword. He caught her staring, and she gave him a small smile before she quickly returned her attention to the street, the one that she had walked so frequently since the day of her wondrous return.

Five days!

Who would have thought that, a mere week ago, she had still been held prisoner in that hut in the woods, had still been in Bishop's grasp.

_Hunting._

That thought made her stomach churn uncomfortably at the images that were brought up, and Liliana felt a sharp ache in her heart before she could fight it down, making her chest feel tight until, for a moment, it became almost hard to breathe.

How was it possible that, after her homecoming, things had become even more complicated and confusing than they had been before?

After her return in the first light of dawn, and some quick words of gratitude and farewell to Deliah and Korban, she had been hauled off to take a bath, and then to bed.

The whole household had been on its feet to greet her, everyone seeming more than relieved that she had returned safely and even more eager to help her, with her mother never leaving her side, the usually composed woman still laughing and crying, but the exhaustion of a long night and the past days had finally caught up with her, and so Liliana had felt nothing of the joy and relief that she had expected but more like walking in a dream, the familiar sight of her family's home seeming strangely bizarre to her all of a sudden, almost unreal.

The only time when she had felt something close to happiness had been when she had seen Nerdanel again, the governess accepting her ward's embrace with the same stoic attitude that Liliana had come to know so well over the years, but the half-elf's eyes had glittered moistly when she had walked away again to prepare Liliana's bed.

She had slept through most of the day, only to wake up to a lovely afternoon, the sun shining warm and bright through the window while the birds had been chirping merrily in the trees in front of her balcony… and she had lain there in her bed, staring at the curtains, the sight of her room so wonderfully familiar… feeling nothing.

Still no joy, no relief.

Only that numb, vague feeling that she was still walking in a dream, that this wasn't real… and for a long, frightening moment, she had experienced the gut-wrenching fear that this _was_ only a dream, that she was still in the hut, with Bishop, and that the moment she awoke, he would take her to the cliffs and throw her down…

Liliana swallowed hard, the memory of that fear still strong enough to make her shiver.

She _had_ made it home, after all. So what was there still left to fear?

Late in the afternoon of that first day, an official of the Waterdhavian City Watch had visited her family's estate, and it had amazed her to learn that several search parties had been combing the forest for her for days, after her father had alerted the watch.

And there she had sat in their living room, her mother by her side, holding her hand, and had watched that young, sympathetic officer from the watch taking some notes in a thick, leather-bound book while two of their maidens had silently put some tea and sandwiches on the table.

The young officer – Coulter had been his name – had looked up, giving her one of his kind and sympathetic smiles, and had asked with a deep and gentle voice:

"Miss de Lavrans… I know this must be very difficult for you right now, but can you tell me what happened to you in the past few days?"

And then, she had lied.

She still was not sure what had made her do it. But in the very moment young officer Coulter had asked her that question, it had all come back to her – every single day that she had spent in the hut, filled with fear, and pain… and other things.

Like that day when Bishop had shown her how to wash his tunic, and how to skin and cut a potato properly. The games she had played with his wolf. That day where Karnwyr had shown up for the very first time, her fear almost eating her alive, and how Bishop had held her in his arms, cradling her against his chest, his hand softly stroking her hair, murmuring words of comfort into her ear. How he had taken her hunting, and had come to her rescue after these men had returned to their hut…

His laughter. His touches. His kiss.

And somehow, she could not do it.

How could she tell all this, and _not_ die of shame?

What would her Cedric think, still on his way back from the woods where he had been part of one of the search teams? Would he understand? Or would he turn away in disgust, once he learned what she had done in order to free herself, to survive?

That she had allowed Bishop to touch her?

The memories had returned full force then – of her bath, of his caress, how they had lain in front of the chimney… of the fire in his kiss, and the inexplicable feeling of hurt and betrayal as she had seen that other woman's face in the medallion…

Of her desperate plan to get the key to her chain, and how it had backfired, how he had come for her…

And in that instant, she had known that she never, _ever_ wanted to see Bishop again.

That wish had been so desperate, so overwhelming that it had even drowned the mingled feeling of shame and self-loathing that had churned in her belly, startling her with its intensity.

What if she made a truthful statement, and Bishop got caught?

Would he not love to boast? Would he tell what a sheep she had been, enjoying the hunt, not even _trying_ to run while they had been out in the woods that day? How she had mended his clothes and cleaned the hut, all the time trying to appease him? How he had kissed her? Touched her?

And how, for that cursed fleeting moment in front of the fire, she had given in, and had kissed him right back?

That thought had been unbearable.

And so she had lied. Had made up a fine, little tale of a rich merchant's daughter who had been kidnapped for a ransom and had been held prisoner in a hut for days, wearing a hood, with her kidnapper leaving her alone most of the time.

When it had come down to a description of the man who had held her captive, she had talked about the bearded man, since his face had been the first that had come to her mind.

And who knew?

Maybe they would find the hut, and the corpses nearby. Then the case would be closed, and she could return to her true love, her old life, and no one must ever know what she had done.

And wouldn't that settle things between her and Bishop as well? One good turn deserved another, right? She had gotten away, and he would keep his freedom.

Simple as that.

Officer Coulter had listened to her tale, that understanding, sympathetic smile still on his face, and had written down her answers in his book. Then he had said his farewell, promising her parents to come back to them as soon as the Watch had any news about the scoundrel who had held their daughter captive, and in case he had any more questions.

He had seemed to have bought her lies, and Liliana had felt so relieved at first.

There had been no need for the truth. She was home now, with her family, and everything would be alright again. Why force anyone to see what a bad girl she had been, force them to see what their Lily had done?

When Cedric had arrived at her father's house later the very same evening, she had been more than certain that it had been the right decision.

She could easily remember how she had come from her room after Nerdanel had given her the news, and how she had entered the great hall just to see him standing at the door, still wearing his cloak, talking animatedly to her father…

And just one look at his beloved face, and there had been all the joy and relief that she had been waiting for for so long. She remembered how she had run down the stairs, throwing herself into his arms, crying, and how his arms had closed around her in an iron grip, spinning her around again and again.

"Oh Lily", Cedric had whispered, tears streaming down his face as well. "Oh, my love…I'm so sorry…"

"Shh!", she had whispered, burying her face in his neck, her heart feeling like it wanted to burst out of her chest…

And then he had kissed her, lovingly, desperately, and for that blissful moment, as his lips had touched hers while she had breathed in his scent, she had felt like nothing could ever harm her again… that she was safe.

But that very same night, the dream had come.

She had dreamed that she had lain in her bed in the light of Selune, watching the curtains of her windows blow in a warm, gentle breeze, a small, happy smile on her face, still thinking of her Cedric's kiss, as a whisper had echoed through the dark of her room, cold and menacing.

"_Did you really think you could run from me, little mouse?"_

She had sat up with a small scream, pressing her blankets tightly to her chest while her gaze had wandered wide-eyed through the dark room, her sudden fear eating her alive.

"_Did you really think this would save you, returning to your family?"_

The scenery had changed.

Where once had been the familiar sight of her room, a forest grew, the trees high and dark and foreboding. She had sat in her bed, terrified to watch the change around her, and her heart had almost stopped beating as she had suddenly realised that she actually _knew_ this place – that she had somehow ended up on the same clearing where it all had started… close to the cliffs.

There had been shadows moving between the trees, wild animals, their teeth bared and their eyes glowing in a deep, hellish red, and she had jumped out of her bed, her naked feet making no sound on the leaves as she had run for her life, the hounds following her close on her heels.

Her flight had come to an abrupt halt as the path that she had followed had ended all of a sudden at the edge of a steep cliff, the sound of the waves of the Sword Sea, crushing against the ancient rock, almost deafening in her ears.

There had been a sudden movement behind her, and two strong arms had closed tightly around her, pulling her against a leather-clad chest. She had turned her head in fright only to see Bishop standing behind her, his eyes shining unnaturally bright in the light of the moon.

The hounds had caught up with them, slowly circling the clearing, howling and growling, but had not come closer, snarling in frustration.

"_The hounds cannot have you, little mouse",_ he had whispered quietly into her ear, his breath warm on her skin, the soft caress, combined with the oh-so familiar sound of his sneering voice making her shiver uncontrollably. _"We still have unfinished business, you and I."_

"_Please!", _she had whimpered, her eyes fixed on his face while tears had streamed down her cheeks, her hands fruitlessly trying to break his hold on her, _"I am so sorry, I did not mean for things to get so out of hand… but I just had to get away, had to go home again…"_

One of his hands had reached up to grab her hair, close to her neck, forcing her face even closer, and the pain had felt way too real for a dream.

"_There's no escape from me, little mouse", _he had snarled, his voice harsh.

And with these words, he had shoved her off the cliff.

She had awoken with a start, still lying in her bed, trembling violently, her throat feeling surprisingly raw as if she had moaned and screamed in her sleep, and her cheeks wet from tears and cold sweat.

For a short while, she had sat in her bed, listening to her pounding heart, wave after wave of that icy fear running cold in her veins, choking her, and had tried to tell herself that everything was alright, that it had been nothing but a dream, that she had gotten away, and that Bishop could never harm her again… but in the end, she had left her room to do something that she had never done since she had been a very small child – quietly making her way through the long corridors of her family's mansion, careful not to run into one of the night guards in her upset state until she had finally reached the door that led to Nerdanel's small suite of rooms.

Her governess had not seemed too surprised to see her young charge standing in the door of her sleeping room in the middle of the night - but then, Nerdanel never seemed surprised, no matter what happened around her.

She had simply moved aside, and Liliana had climbed into her bed and the offered embrace, her fear still coiling in her belly, to nestle against the elder woman's chest, her body trembling like a leaf in the storm.

She remembered how Nerdanel had softly stroked her hair, murmuring soothingly into her ear, her words of comfort being a balm to Liliana's weary self.

"Do not worry, child", the half-elf had whispered, her long fingers gently wiping the tears from her ward's cheek. "Things will be alright again. You will see." And she had believed her.

But already the next day, Liliana had made the painful experience that she could not simply go on with her old life, that things _had_ changed somehow in the days that she had been away.

It had been obvious in the way the staff had always stopped whispering the very moment she entered a room, suddenly looking guilty and hurrying off to leave her alone. It had been written on her father's face, watching her with worried eyes whenever he thought she wasn't looking. In the forcefully cheerful mood of her mother, who simply went on with her life as if nothing had ever happened at all, and had chimed in with a loud, shrill voice whenever someone mentioned the abduction in her presence. The way Damian had shied away from her, pretending to be busy with one trade arrangement or the other.

All these reactions had given her the impression that these days in the hut had contaminated her somehow, had dirtied her, so that people were starting to feel uncomfortable in her presence - which made her feel filthy in a way, and strangely lonely.

It was as if people could sense what had happened to her in the hut, although she hadn't talked about it to anyone, not even Nerdanel, and were now afraid that simply being around her was already contagious, as if she was making them feel filthy, too, just through her presence.

That thought hurt more than she could tell.

It had not been her fault, had it? She had never wanted Bishop to take her away and chain her to that wall, would have given everything to make these past days undone… so how could people treat her like that, making her feel even worse than she already did?

Because the dream had reminded her in a rather dramatic fashion that she _had_ made a mistake, and that there still was unfinished business between her and Bishop - if he had said the truth, and someone _had_ hired him to kill her.

Would he come for her to finish the job?

That thought had made her sick enough with fright to throw up her breakfast, that sudden wave of panic leaving her exhausted and trembling on the floor of her bathroom, the gnawing fear choking her.

What was she about to do?

And if there _was_ someone out there who had paid gold to see her dead, was he not bound to hire another assassin, even if Bishop took his belongings and Karnwyr and vanished quietly into the woods?

But how could she come up with the truth now and _not_ make everyone suspicious, after all the lies that she had told yesterday, in a completely harebrained touch of compassion? Would it not look as if she had tried to protect her abductor, as if he meant something to her?

And if she was forced to tell about the things that she had done to free herself… what would her Cedric think about it now? Would he still believe her that it had meant nothing to her, that Bishop meant nothing to her?

Her stomach gave another uncomfortable churn at that thought, and Liliana felt a small stab of guilt pierce her heart. Looking around in a desperate attempt to distract herself from that unwelcome notion, she noticed that they had almost reached the other side of the market square, the roof of the Temple of Tyr finally coming into view, gleaming bright in the light of the sun - a marble beacon marking her way.

But the strange feeling in her heart would not go away, and she cast down her eyes once more, guilt and shame now battling strongly in her chest.

_How long do you think you can lie to yourself and still believe it, Liliana?, _that soft voice whispered in her mind, making her want to cringe. _If you did not care about him, would you not have handed him over to the watch without a second thought? If he meant nothing to you at all, why would you even be here?_

And that was the greatest part of her shame, was it not?

That she could not deny it any longer that she _did_ feel something for Bishop, even though he was a cold-hearted killer, manipulative and cruel. That the thought of seeing him in chains, of seeing him hang was simply unbearable.

That she could not bear the thought of seeing him hurt again.

But _why_?

She truly did not understand.

How could he still make her feel this way, even make her lie to her family, her love, when he was nothing but a common thug, cold and unfeeling?

Did all victims develop such an ill bond with their abductor? She did not know, and she did not dare to ask, fearing that her family or Cedric would find out and started to ask questions - questions that she simply could not answer.

And even after these first days back home had passed by, days in which she had jumped at the slightest sound, fearing to have to look into that pair of unusual eyes again, to hear that cold, familiar voice whisper into her ear, just like in her dream…

Even after these days had passed by without any incident and something like normality had slowly returned to her every-day life, even then, no matter how hard she had tried, she still hadn't been able to stop thinking about these days in the hut.

About Bishop.

And strangely enough, the longer she stayed with her family, the blurrier these memories seemed to become… as if her mind was trying hard to forget all the horrible things that she had witnessed, and focussed on the happier memories instead, like the hunt, or these rare moments where they had almost talked like civilized people with each other.

How he had held her in his arms that last evening, softly stroking her hair, pressing a gentle kiss on her temple… and how sheltered she had felt in his embrace, how his presence had been enough to take away her fear, making her feel… whole somehow. Content.

It drove her mad.

She did not want to think about him like that. She did not want to think about him _at all_. All she really wanted was to return to her old life and be with her Cedric, leaving all these unwelcome memories of _his_ kisses and touches behind.

But she couldn't.

The memories had haunted her like a ghost, always coming back to her, tormenting her. She had even been afraid to go to bed, always dreading the night where she would dream of Bishop again, a part of her fearing that this time, he would not simply shove her off that cliff, but would do… other things to her.

Just the thought alone made her feel dirty.

But was it really such a surprise that she could not forget him and the hut that easily? She had been through a serious traumatic experience… and since everyone was doing their best to pretend that it had never happened, and expected Liliana to play along with it, she had not been able to talk about it to anyone.

Had had no chance to come to terms with these memories any other way, and so her mind had been doing that work all on its own, in order to keep her sane and whole. Which meant that she would have to do something, so that she could finally cope with the memories, and could start to forget it all.

And what was it her grandfather always said?

_People only fear what they don't know. _

So that was what she was going to do. Get to know more about Bishop, to give her mind something to think about, in order to work a way around her fear and her memories… And what better place to search for knowledge in the City of Splendours than the temple of Oghma, also known as the Font of Knowledge?

So on the third day after her return, she had made her way to the Castle Ward to talk to the clergy. Her mother had thrown a fit as she had demanded to leave the house, and had only calmed down a little after father had joined them in the great hall, alerted by the sudden noise, and had intervened on Liliana's behalf, telling his wife that they simply could not lock their daughter away forever.

But he _had_ insisted that she went with a guard, and after a moment of consideration, she had asked for Jackson to accompany her.

The man had never said a word to her about the incident, but Liliana could easily imagine what hell he must have been through after she had gone missing while being under his care.

She doubted that anyone could actually have hindered Bishop from getting her out of that camp, no matter if she had left for the woods with Cedric that day or not… but since telling that wasn't an option, she could at least show the man that she bore no grudge.

So the two of them had finally made their way to the Font of Knowledge, the same way they were walking right now, to speak with the clergy.

The priest had been an elderly man, wearing the dark robes of an archivist and a silver amulet around his neck showing the blank scroll, the holy symbol of his order, the sign of Oghma.

He had smiled after Liliana had pledged her cause, and had told her that the Font's library held indeed some folios about the _War of Shadows_, some of them only recently added, and had led her through the vast archive, leading her past row after row of books and papers.

Even Liliana, who came from a well-educated family, had made large eyes at the sheer amount of books and maps that had been gathered in that place, while Jackson had just stared in awe, his mouth opening and closing in surprise.

Finally, the priest had left them in a corner of the visitor's archive whose folios held information about "the most recent history of all the Swordcoast", and after setting a small oil lamp on a nearby table, the man had quietly vanished between the rows, leaving Liliana and her escort alone.

And so she had spent the whole day in the archives, scanning book after book after book, always looking for his name – finding nothing. It had been maddening!

So many reports about battles, theories about these so-called Shadowreavers and their origin, endless trifle about Illefarn and that King of Shadows… but nothing about the things that she had been looking for.

Of course Riana had been mentioned in all the books, but besides the fact that she had been a cleric of Ilmater and had come from a village called West Harbor somewhere in the Mere of Dead Men before she had been knighted and had become the Captain of Crossroad Keep, she had found nothing.

What had these scholars been thinking? Did these people who had fought with their leader all the time not deserve to be mentioned in the records, had their deeds truly been so small in comparison with Riana's accomplishments that not even their names had been listed amongst the Great and Powerful of the Swordcoast?

Liliana had fumed silently, bitter disappointment already nagging at her that all the time that she had spent here at the Font had been in vain, that she would not find what she was hoping for, until she had finally found the book amongst a collection of maps of Neverwinter territory and the Mere.

The binding had been simple, brown leather with the words _The War of Shadows _edged into its cover, but already after going through the first pages, Liliana's heart had begun to beat faster.

This book had been more than just a highly theoretical description of the events that had taken place almost two years ago. It had looked like a collection of loosely connected interviews and letters of eye-witnesses, containing re-drawings of hastily sketched maps showing troop movements with quickly written notes on it, some of them saying cryptic things like _We should proceed as planned. Nev - _but Liliana had gotten really excited.

If there was a book in all the archive that held some information about Bishop, would it not be this one where even the peasants who had lived in the shadow of the Keep had been asked to testify what they remembered?

Her thoughts had been disrupted by the sudden return of that elderly priest, reminding her in his calm voice that the sun was already setting and that the Font would close its archives for visitors soon.

She had gaped in surprise, first at the priest, than at Jackson, the realisation that she had actually spent all day in these halls without really noticing more than a little disturbing, but a very different kind of feeling had drowned all others – fear!

She had searched so hard to find this book. What if she left the archives now, only to return tomorrow and see that someone else had already taken it? It could be days or weeks until she would be able to have another look at it, and how would she work her way around her memories if she had nothing to work with, nothing that would help her to ease her mind, to make _him_ go away?

Desperation had clawed at her heart, and so she had pressed the book firmly against her chest, pleading her cause in what she hoped had been a casual voice. The priest had listened to her somewhat disconnected tirade sympathetically, quietly watching her with his sharp eyes, and had finally allowed her to take the book with her – against a small donation for the temple.

So Liliana had written down her name and that of the book in a list, had paid some gold and had left for her family's house again, still clutching the folio tightly against her chest.

And that night, after dinner, she had sat down and started to read. Had read until Nerdanel had finally come to her room to insist that she put out the light, and even after that, with the little glowing orb that her grandfather had given to her as a child, hiding the treacherous bluewhite light under her blankets.

Had kept reading all night, page after page, until, in the early hours of dawn, she had finally closed the book and had rolled to the side, her head swimming from confusion and exhaustion.

It had just made no sense.

Riana, betrothed to a paladin of Tyr? And Bishop, sabotaging the Keep and joining with the enemy forces?

_But… he loves her. _

Had Riana left him for that other man, that Casavir, and Bishop had been forced to see them together day after day? Maybe watching her accepting this man's proposal, after she had refused his own?

She could easily see how this would haven eaten away at Bishop, how he would have wanted to pay Riana back in kind and how this Garius had contacted him before the end, whispering poisonous words into the ranger's ear, persuading him to turn on his beloved…

And although this had cast a different light on some of the things that Bishop had said to her that last night, and had explained his terrible regret, her head had still been bursting with questions – questions that the book simply could not answer.

So Liliana had returned to the Great Library later that day, with Jackson by her side, to speak with the elderly priest again.

She was lucky, she had been told. The sage who had collected these letters and information actually resided in Waterdeep, and was one of the men and women who made up the Council of Sages that frequented the Font of Knowledge regularly. He had just returned from another journey to the Northern Lands, and would most likely come to the Library the following day if he was noted that his presence was required.

Which was why she was here now, passing the marble halls of the Temple of Tyr without a second glance, her eyes searching for the large, wooden door that marked the entrance to the Font of Knowledge, the dark roof of Blackstaff Tower looming in the distance.

_Great Lord Oghma_, she prayed quietly as she stepped up the stairs leading to the portal, _I know that we haven't been very close in the past, but please, look kindly upon this one of Faerun's children now. Make that the sage has the answers I seek… and that it will help me to put things right again._

And after a last imploring gaze up at the sky, she straightened her shoulders and entered the temple.


	4. Metamorphosis, Part II

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

The air was cool in the entrance hall.

Liliana made her way over to the reception, her heart beating nervously while her footsteps echoed softly through the high chamber. The young priest behind the desk looked up from her paperwork as she approached, and nodded in formal greeting.

"I am here to see one of the sages", Liliana replied after she had returned the gesture, her voice quivering ever so slightly.

The priest nodded.

"And with whom do you wish to speak?", the woman answered in a deep, cultured voice.

"Javroun Lithkind."

The priest nodded again and got up.

"Follow me."

They were led through the temple and past the visitor's archive into a large, circular room. Sunlight streamed through the high windows in the marble dome and illuminated the small niches that surrounded its centre.

There were twelve of them, and Liliana wondered briefly whether this was a holy number for the Oghma church or whether it had simply architectural reasons, as the priest touched her gently at her elbow and pointed towards one of the alcoves.

A man with dark hair and a truly impressive moustache was sitting in one of the niches at a handsome cherry-wood desk, writing on a large piece of parchment.

"This is the sage you seek."

With these words, the priest nodded first at Liliana and then Jackson and left, probably returning to her post in the entrance hall.

Liliana swallowed hard, her hands suddenly feeling clammy.

_You wanted to do this_, the small voice in her head reminded her rather sternly, _it will help you to forget, remember? So no turning back now._

She swallowed one more time and then swiftly walked through the room, passing other small groups of people who were already deep in conversation.

_You stood up to Bishop, and escaped the hut all on your own. So how hard can this be?_

The man did not look up as they approached, obviously deeply absorbed in his work. It seemed that being one of the lore masters of Waterdeep had definitely worked out for him, since he was clad in a rich doublet in dark red brocade with beautiful embroideries, and the glittering rings on his fingers looked very valuable.

After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, in which the man did nothing but continue his writing, Liliana spoke.

"I… I am searching for Javroun Lithkind."

At first, it seemed as if the man had not heard her. The quill still did not falter in its graceful dance across the parchment, but after another noticeable pause in which Liliana wondered whether she had misunderstood the gesture of the priest and had approached the wrong niche, the man lifted his quill for a moment, indicating at a chair in front of his desk.

"Sit", he said coolly as he resumed his writing, still without looking up. Liliana could hear Jackson inhale sharply at the commanding tone in the man's voice, but did as she was told.

Another long moment went by, and still the man did not show any signs of acknowledging their presence. Liliana could hear Jackson huff indignantly beside her – it was obvious that her watchman thought the behaviour of the sage to be close to scandalous, and she, too, did not know what to make of this.

Which did nothing to calm her nerves, really.

She cast Jackson a small, trembling smile, her eyes pleading with him to restrain himself, as the man at the other side of the desk seemingly reached the end of his parchment and signed his words with a large, flourishing signature.

Then, finally, he sat up, the quill now laid down beside the scroll, and turned his eyes straight at Liliana, seizing her.

Javroun Lithkind was an elderly man, his sharp face showing deep lines around his eyes and mouth, but not a single white hair adorned his beard or the neatly trimmed mane of dark hair. His eyes were as dark as his hair, a dull black that did not even reflect the light, seeing all and revealing nothing.

Liliana had to fight hard not to squirm under that cool, scrutinizing stare, and in a feeble attempt to escape his gaze, she cleared her throat and reached into the hidden pocket of her skirt, her fingers shaking lightly as she did so.

"I… I have your fee", Liliana said nervously, pulling a small leather pouch out of her skirt and onto the table. The sage cast it merely a short glance before he returned his strange black eyes to her. His voice was disturbingly calm as he spoke.

"This will not be enough… for both of you", Javroun Lithkind answered simply, his eyes never leaving Liliana even as Jackson made an angry step forward.

"It's alright, Jackson", she turned quickly to her companion, her hand now lying on his arm in a soothing manner, suddenly afraid that her watchman would finally lose his temper.

For a moment, it looked as if Jackson would give the sage a piece of his mind nonetheless, but then he took a deep breath, nodded stiffly at Liliana and walked away through the small Atrium, still close but out of earshot.

"That's better", Javroun said in the same, disturbingly calm voice, a small, smug smile playing on his thin lips.

The way he stared at her made Liliana feel highly uncomfortable. What was she about to do now? All the sages she had known in her life had hardly been able to restrain themselves whenever someone had asked them a question, almost bursting with the need to share their knowledge.

As a daughter of one of Waterdeep's most influential families, she had rarely met a man who had treated her in an as unwelcoming way as Javroun Lithkind, and so she did not know how to react to his cold, arrogant behaviour.

There was another long, uncomfortable silence in which Javroun Lithkind stared at her, his right hand slowly twisting his moustache. Then a strange expression flickered across his face, and he wrinkled his nose, his eyes glittering.

"You paid the fee", he said coldly, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Do you have questions now, or not?"

Liliana had to fight hard not to squirm under his commanding stare as a treacherous heat slowly crept into her cheeks.

"Oh… yes. Yes."

She swallowed, but went on bravely.

"I have been told that you have collected the information in one of the Archive's books, _The War of Shadows_."

"Ah." For a moment, a small smile flickered across Javroun's face. "That I did."

"I want to know more about the Knight-Captain, her companions and…," here her voice caught ever so slightly," … and the betrayal."

The sage leaned back in his chair at her words, his hand still twisting his moustache, but instead of answering her request, he simply sat there in silence, his eyes now focusing on a point somewhere behind Liliana.

It was infuriating.

Who did he think he was, playing his stupid games with her, even _after_ she had paid his not-so-small fee, and when she was in such a desperate need for answers?

Surprisingly hot anger boiled in her blood, burning her self-consciousness away, and before Liliana even realised what she was doing, she had leaned forward in her chair, her hands now resting firmly on the cherry-wood desk, and her eyes flashed angrily as she spoke.

"Look, as you have said, I paid your fee", Liliana stated, and now it was _her_ voice that sounded cold, and more than a bit impatient. "I asked you a question. Answer it, or not, but stop wasting my time and my gold."

Javroun's dark eyes returned to her, one eyebrow drawn up in something close to surprise, and Liliana held his gaze defiantly although, deep down, she was truly startled about her sudden courage, and more than ashamed for her bad manners.

_Well done, Liliana_, the soft voice in her head scoffed sarcastically, _how diplomatic. And what if he does not want to speak with you anymore because of your tactful words? Where will you get your answers then?_

Her heart gave a fearful leap at that last thought, but as her eyes sought Javroun's, she was surprised to see that he did not look affronted at all.

On the contrary, if anything, the sage looked highly amused, and there was something strangely approving in the small smile that played on his face as he returned his attention to Liliana, his dark eyes glittering.

"Well, well", he said airily, " where to begin? You wanted to know more about the so-called War of Shadows, and the lady knight of Neverwinter?"

Liliana swallowed. "Yes."

"She came from a swamp village", Javroun said, ", but that you will already know, after reading my notes. From West Harbor, deep in the Mere of Dead Man where she was raised by a wood elf – obviously a friend of her mother who took her in as a baby after the mother died during the first War of Shadows, over thirty years ago."

"She was a priest, yes? Of Ilmater?"

"Indeed. Very devoted to her god, and from what I've heard, a most gentle and compassionate creature."

From the way he said this, Liliana suspected that Javroun was not very fond of the clergy of this particular church, but she was far too tense to pay it any real attention.

"In your book, someone called Starling said that there was an attack on West Harbor one day, and that she left the village then, in order to find out who was behind it, and why."

Javroun nodded slowly.

"Oh, yes. She came to Neverwinter in search of answers, joined the City Watch and swiftly began to climb through the ranks." He paused, thinking. "From what I have heard, she was smart and resourceful, and as soon as the importance of the situation became clear, and the way she was connected to all this through the shard in her chest, she was given Crossroad Keep and the order to train up the men for the battle ahead."

Liliana swallowed nervously.

"And… and what about her companions?"

It seemed as if Javroun had caught a hint of her anxiety in her voice, since he raised one of his eyebrows again, his look suddenly becoming thoughtful as he went on.

"Well, she had gathered quite a group of followers during her time as the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep. An odd group made of elves, dwarves, tieflings… even a githzerai."

His eyes flickered to the pouch still lying on the table.

"Talking about all of them would definitely require more gold", he continued smoothly. "So… is there any particular companion you wish to talk about?"

It felt as if a bucket of icy water had suddenly been emptied over her head. Liliana felt the cold slowly creep down her spine, goose bumps rising in its wake as she quickly folded her hands in her lap to hide their sudden trembling, her fingers sweaty again.

She knew that this was actually what she was here for, that she had spent the last day in agony, praying for the day to end swiftly so that she could return to this place… but gods, it was so hard.

"I… I heard there was a ranger travelling with her…", she replied quietly, and her voice trembled treacherously as she fought the sudden memory of firelight wandering over mahogany hair and glittering in unusually light brown eyes. Javroun gave her a false, bright smile at that statement, making a flourishing gesture with his hands as if he was one of the actors at the _Nightsong_.

"Ah… the betrayer. Definitely one of the more intriguing characters in this plot. He… what was his name again?"

"Bishop", Liliana replied without thinking, and felt her cheeks go flaming red as she saw the amused glint in Javroun's eyes, knowing that she had stepped into a rather obvious trap.

_Sheep!_

Obviously satisfied by her reaction, the sage put the tips of his long fingers together and leaned a little towards her, lowering his voice in what Liliana assumed should be a dramatic effect.

"Of course. Bishop."

"He was a ranger, from Luskan", Javroun went on. "Although I have heard from a most reliable source that his origins actually seem to lie in another backwater village in the Mere of Dead Men, and that he only went to Luskan as a young man to make a fortune."

Liliana felt a strange feeling welling up in her, a confusing medley of emotions, quickly followed by another wave of shame. She knew that she probably shouldn't feel this way, considering their history, but now that she was finally getting the information that she had hungered for, she couldn't stop her heart from beating hot and fast with excitement.

Fortunately, it seemed as if Javroun hadn't noticed her sudden emotional turmoil, for his expression did not change as he continued.

"He was recruited into the Luskan army and climbed swiftly through the ranks, but it seemed that this work wasn't much to his liking, for he left the city a few years later under highly dramatic circumstances to work as a free scout on the border line between Neverwinter and its hostile neighbour."

Javroun made another noticeable pause, his dark eyes glittering expectantly. It was obvious that he was only waiting for Liliana to ask him about the highly dramatic circumstances of Bishop's departure, but right now, she did not mind to play another one of his little games.

"What happened?", she asked, unable to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

Javroun smiled thinly, seemingly pleased with her reaction.

"Well, he managed to get the right reputation with the right people, even inside the Hosttower. So, one day, he was rewarded for his service with the chance to get accepted by one of Luskan's elite assassination squads."

He paused again.

"Do you know what the initiation ceremony for one of these squads is?", Javroun asked in that disturbingly quiet voice. Liliana simply shook her head, her stomach churning forebodingly as she saw the expression on the sage's face.

The man leaned back in his chair.

"They have to destroy a whole village", he replied casually, his dark eyes scanning Liliana's face closely for her reaction. "A Neverwintan village, of course. No one's supposed to survive – not one. Old men and women, children… if a single habitant escapes, the acolyte won't be accepted into the squad, and most likely gets killed for wasting the squad leader's time."

Now Javroun actually smiled, a cool, thin smile that had nothing to do with a warm or friendly gesture, the disturbing sight sending shivers of dread down her spine.

"I have heard the ranger passed that test remarkably well – destroying both the village _and_ the assassination squad before searching refuge inside Neverwintan territory."

It felt as if her innards had suddenly turned to ice.

Liliana just sat in her chair, staring at her vis-à-vis with wide eyes, searching for the smallest sign that the man was exaggerating somehow, that he was trying to lead her on… but nothing.

He simply watched her, that disturbing smile still on his face, seemingly enjoying her shocked reaction.

"But, this… this cannot be", she heard herself reply in a feeble voice, only half-noticing how her nails dug deep into the skin of her icy hands while her thoughts were chasing each other feverishly.

_But, Bishop… a whole village… not one survived?_

It was unbelievable.

Of course, he _had_ chained her to that wall, and had even threatened to throw her off a cliff… but this…

It simply couldn't be. It could not be!

"I assure you that I am telling the truth", Javroun replied smoothly, and Liliana felt a hot wave of dislike rage through her as she watched the sage lounging comfortably in his chair, as if they were talking about nothing but the weather.

_You do not know what truly happened,_ Liliana thought desperately, the sinking feeling in her stomach only intensifying as she looked into Javroun's dark, unfeeling eyes.

_This is about Luskan, and we all know what a nasty place that city is. Maybe he had had no other chance, had seen no other way to get away…_

"But then he joined Riana's forces, right? He redeemed himself by helping the Knight Captain in her fight against the King of Shadows…"

Javroun chuckled, the cool sound sending a renewed wave of dislike down her spine.

"Well, as I have learned, he had been blackmailed into Riana's service by her… uncle, who seems to have some strange ties to the ranger's past – I wouldn't actually take that for the sign of a man who feels sorry for his deeds and wishes to walk the road of redemption… not to mention his last betrayal."

Voices were suddenly echoing in her head, one full of surprise, the other full of scorn.

_...and there was a ranger travelling with her..._

_Blackmailed into helping her out, you mean._

_I'm not hero material, little mouse. I never was a hero. And that's why I'm still alive._

Liliana stubbornly shook her head.

"But how could the Knight Captain ever consider him if he…"

"What, Riana? Considering… the ranger?"

Javroun threw his head back and laughed. It was a harsh, cruel sound that did nothing to ease her emotional turmoil, and Liliana flinched as it echoed through the alcoves, confusion now mingling strongly with her dread and dislike.

"My dear lady, I do not know where you heard _that_ information, but whoever said that – he lied."

Liliana opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"But… I thought…"

The sage chuckled.

"From what _I_ have heard, he never got along well with anyone – not the Knight Captain, and certainly not a single one of her other companions. They shunned him… and the peasants of Crossroad Keep were actually afraid of him."

"They described him as cold-hearted, and cruel. A mean bastard who got into some nasty fights during his time at the Keep, and never listened to anyone… even the Knight Captain."

Javroun leaned back in his chair once more, his dark eyes watching her intently before his lips parted in that thin, disturbing smile again.

"But if you still don't believe me – it was not simply a village that he destroyed during his initiation ceremony. From all the small backwater settlements that he could have chosen from, he chose his own home village… and watched it burn to the ground before he decided to turn on his former comrades as well."

_His home village._

In front of her inner eye, an image of Bishop rose, standing on a hill, clad in his leather armour, his weapons at his side and his bow on his back, his face reddened by the shine of a gigantic fire.

She could almost hear the screams of terror, taste the despair, and simply knew how he would just stand there, watching it all with his cold eyes, that unfeeling mask back on his face, and gasped as her heart gave a terrible squeeze at this image, as if it was squashed slowly inside her chest.

She tried to draw a shuddering breath, to calm herself, but found that there did not seem to be enough air.

Other images came to her mind, chasing each other in quick succession – the look he had given her when they had met under those trees for the first time, the stony expression as he had choked her, that crooked grin as he had stared into the tub and had found his tunic shrunken with the heat, the feel of his breath on her cheek as he had shown her how to use his bow, the livid expression on his face as he had caught up with her after she had tried to run away, that strange expression on his face as they had lain in front of the fire, watching her face while she was singing, his hands gliding so gently through the wet strands of her hair again and again…

Her heart gave another terrible squeeze, and Liliana got to her feet, her sudden movement so violent that it made the chair screech over the marble floor.

"Thank you for your time", she said in a strangely subdued voice, then turned around and quickly left for the exit, just willing herself to get away before Javroun could start with a reply.

She walked with trembling legs, first through that long corridor and then through the large entrance hall before she finally stepped out onto the road again, only half-noticing that Jackson caught up with her as she reached the front doors, her guard panting a little as if he had run all the way.

She made her way through the masses, passing the market place and all its attractions without casting it even as much as a glance, her feet carrying her towards home, but she did not even notice.

What a sheep she had been!

To think that she had so desperately tried to see something good in him, to be understanding, when he had been a monster all along…

That she had really tried to see him as a man who had once been a hero of Neverwinter and then had just gone through dark times, who had been thrown off-course by the loss of his love… who had not even been his love, after all.

Riana had never loved him. She had loved that other man, this Casavir… which meant that all the things that she had thought had taken place between Bishop and the Knight Captain had actually never happened.

_The locket was never his._

Her heart gave another painful pang at that thought, but this time, pity mingled surprisingly strong with her anger and confusion.

To think that he had betrayed Riana without a second thought, leaving her Keep open to the enemy, knowing that she could die… only to steal that piece of jewelry from her lover before he left, and returning to the Mere after the final battle, desperately searching the ruins for a sign that she survived…

_Oh, Bishop, you are such a fool._

The thought came to her mind before she could stop herself, and Liliana frowned as she made her way down the High Road towards the North Ward.

Did she really pity him?

What did she care if his life was a mess, when he was nothing but a monster, a brutal killer without qualms or conscience?

_You played him._

That thought sent another icy wave down her spine, making her feel ill. She had been so certain that they had been lovers, had not even thought for a moment that she had misread the signs…

To think that he never… with Riana… but she…

Before she could stop it, an image rose, and she saw Bishop kneeling before her, his lips tasting of that berry liquor as he kissed her, the stubble on his chin chafing her skin as he whispered against her cheek, his hands gliding through her hair.

_Always wanted to do that... always wanted to touch it... so beautiful, so soft, like silk... want you so much..._

She saw him lying beside her, pulling her against his chest afterwards, and the memory of his genuine smile pierced her like a flaming bolt through her heart.

To think that he had thought that she had been Riana, that his dream had finally come true… only to realise in the morning that she had played him for a fool…

_Stop it, _snarled the voice in her head, as her heart slowly turned to lead_, are you finally losing your mind? How can you feel sorry for hurting his feelings, when he clearly had no qualms about hurting your own? _

_Tell me, Liliana… if you had known, if you had realised your mistake in time… would you have stayed only to spare his feelings?_

She forcefully shook her head as she made her way between the old mansions, hastily shoving these thoughts and images aside, but her sudden discomfort told her more than a thousand words.

xxx

Old Jebediah gave her a wide, toothy grin as he opened the gate for them, and Liliana returned it with a genuine smile, her mood lightening noticeably as she walked down the familiar path to her family's house.

This was the place where she belonged.

Here were her family, her friends, her love… and Bishop was nothing but a terrible thing that had happened to her in her past, a mere shadow and a memory that she would forget in time.

There was a soft rustling sound in one of the bushes nearby, and Brutus, one of Jebediah's dogs came rushing towards her, barking loudly and hopping excitedly around her feet.

Liliana laughed and kneeled to scratch the dog behind his ears, and looked up as she heard Jackson's soft chuckle, the watchman eyeing her with something like fatherly pride, his hands in his hips.

"You always had a hand for these beasts, Miss Liliana", he said approvingly.

Liliana laughed once more and patted the dog on his head before she got up again. Brutus hopped a few steps away, then turned and cast her a long glance, obviously bursting with the need to show her something.

"I'm sorry, muff", Liliana answered with a sad smile, "but I cannot come with you today. I fear I'm already late as it is. You can show me tomorrow."

Her mother was waiting for her in the Great Hall, her sumptuous dress showing not a single wrinkle, her make-up and hair flawless as usual. She frowned as she watched her daughter and Jackson enter, and Liliana wondered briefly how fast her mother had changed from the laughing and crying woman to this person who would give her recently lost daughter _the look_ for disappointing her again.

"You are late", she stated briskly as Liliana handed her cloak to one of the maidens. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jackson quickly tiptoeing out of sight. "Madame Meiroth and her assistant already arrived half an hour ago."

"I am sorry, mama", Liliana replied in a subdued voice, a sinking feeling resting in her stomach as she saw her mother's frown deepen.

For a moment, it looked as if Lady de Lavrans wanted to say something, but she simply made a harsh gesture with one hand while she reached for her daughter's elbow with the other.

"Come. They are waiting in the blue parlor."

Madame Meiroth was an elderly woman with bright white hair that she preferred to wear in a bun, but her face was smooth for a woman her age, only showing a soft line of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth when she smiled at Liliana and introduced her to her new assistant, a young man with ebony hair and a long nose who murmured something incoherent as Liliana offered him her hand with a small smile, his cheeks suddenly flaming red.

"It is good that we are measuring you again", Madame Meiroth said a few minutes later as Liliana was standing on a small pouffe with her arms stretched out, a measuring tape around her hips.

"It seems you've gotten even thinner in the last few months."

The elderly woman cast Liliana a sharp glance and _tsk_ed.

"You should really eat more, darling. Young men like it when their ladies have a little something on their hips, you know? And it's not as if you need to lose more weight", she finished with a friendly smile and a soft patting of Liliana's cheek, which made her feel as if she was a girl of five again.

That thought galled her somehow.

"So", the tailor went on, now all business, "what kind of dress did you have in mind for the barbecue?"

"Well, I thought…", Liliana began, but was interrupted by her mother who stood close by, studying various cloth samples with the young assistant. The young man cast Liliana another quick glance and hastily averted his eyes again as she caught him staring, his ears taking on an interesting shade of pink.

"We thought about a dress in a little wider cut, didn't we, Liliana? Not too thick a cloth or too much arm, since it's summer, but nothing too fancy."

Liliana looked down at her mother and then Madame Meiroth, a lump in her throat.

"Well, I…"

"Here." Her mother walked over, carrying a small bale of silk in her hand. The cloth was of the faintest pink, with some large flowery patterns in yellow, apricot and white. "Just think how lovely you will look if we're adding some ribbons to the skirt."

Liliana stared at the cloth, then at her mother, the lump tightening painfully in her throat. Madame Meiroth frowned.

"Maybe this is not exactly the right pattern for a young lady…", she began, but her mother waved her hand impatiently.

"Nonsense. You like it, Liliana, don't you, dear?"

She was casting her daughter _the look_ again, and Liliana opened her mouth automatically to consent… as she heard a soft chuckle in her mind, and a voice echoed in her head, half amused and half mocking her.

_You always do what other people tell you, don't you, mousie?_

"No", she replied forcefully, and almost flinched as she saw the look of utmost surprise on her mother's face.

"But… it's such a beautiful silk…"

Liliana felt a small pang of guilt at these softly spoken words, but took a deep breath to steel her resolve.

"Yes, mama… if I were twelve." She made an exasperated gesture. "I am going to be a wife soon. I want the people at the barbecue to look at Cedric and think what a fortunate man he is to be with a woman like me, and not to have them wonder why he is courting a silly little girl instead."

For one long, terrible moment, Liliana feared that her mother would actually burst into tears. She stared at her daughter, her eyes glittering moist, but then she reached up to gently touch Liliana's hair and cheek, a loving smile on her face.

"Of course", her mother stated gently. "You have grown up so fast. I am looking at you and still see my little Lily… when you have grown into a young woman already."

She turned towards Madame Meiroth, who had followed the discussion with a small frown between her white brows.

"A dress for a young woman it shall be, then."

The tailor smiled.

"I think I have _just_ the right cloth for such a thing. Trevor, please hand me the black box."

The rest of the afternoon came and went in a swirl of silk and brocade, followed by friendly but heated discussions and, finally - a compromise.

Liliana had just returned to her room, her head feeling a little dizzy after another strenuous day, when someone knocked softly against her door.

She looked up, and watched Nerdanel enter, carrying a letter in her hand.

"Are you pleased with your new dress?"

Liliana smiled.

"I feared mama would get some kind of heart attack near the end, but I think it will look alright."

The lips of her governess twitched ever so slightly.

"I should think so."

Then her expression turned serious again.

"This letter has been delivered for you."

Liliana reached for it eagerly as she recognised the neat, elegant writing, but felt her heart growing heavier with every word she read.

"It is Cedric", she replied sadly. "He says he's heartbroken, but the ship from the Moonshaes will only leave Waterdeep with the next tide. He cannot come."

There it was again, that strange feeling of isolation, that invisible weight that always seemed to drape itself around her shoulders like a curtain nowadays, slowly dragging her down.

Nerdanel frowned and reached for the letter, her eyes scanning the piece of parchment quickly.

"But, see – he says that he will make it up to you tomorrow, and will take you to the _Nightsong_… and that he has a surprise for you."

"Whatever", Liliana replied, a part of her hating the way how her voice suddenly sounded sulking and tired.

A cool hand reached for her chin, and she was forced to look up into Nerdanel's knowing eyes, the look on the other woman's face firm but gentle.

"Child", she said softly. "it is just one day. You two will have days and days ahead of you, a whole lifetime, if the gods are kind. Don't hold it against him that he is assiduous."

There was a long pause, in which the birds chirped merrily in the large trees just outside her balcony. Then Liliana sighed.

"Of course you are right, Nedda. It's just…" She sighed again, her eyes gazing out of the window. The sun was finally setting, filling the room with a warm, orange glow, and the moon was slowly rising over the trees. "I missed him so much. I just hoped… I thought that we would spend more time together now."

Nerdanel squeezed her shoulder before she handed her ward the letter, a smile on her face.

"There now. That sounds more like a young woman, and not like a sullen child."

Liliana stuck her tongue out, and the woman laughed.

"See what I mean?"

She gave her ward a warm smile.

"What do you think? Should we take our cloaks and go for a walk along the lake?"

Liliana's gaze wandered back towards the window, her gaze lingering on the evening sky for another long moment.

"No", she said slowly, then quickly got up to walk to the door. "There is something else I want to do."

xxx

She found Jackson in the kitchen, finishing his dinner.

The watchman looked surprised to see her, but agreed without hesitation to accompany her. Liliana was glad as they walked swiftly through the park towards the gate that they had not encountered her mother on their way out – even if her parents had agreed to let her leave the house as long as one of the watchmen accompanied her, Liliana was quite certain that leaving the estate after dusk had not been a part of that agreement.

The House of the Moon lay on a small hill at Diamond Street, in the Southern part of the Sea Ward. A large marble stair led up to the entrance of the beautifully decorated temple, and Liliana stopped at the edge of the large terrace at the top of the stairs to enjoy the view on the Sea of Swords, Selune's silvery light glittering on the distant waves while the sky was still showing a hint of the red glow that had set it on fire on her way here. Her heart gave a strange yearning at the wonderful sight, and Liliana drew a deep breath, the weight on her shoulders lifting a little as she watched the moon making its slow way across the sky.

A priestess was waiting at the entrance of the temple, her flaming red hair curling lively around her freckled face. She wore a long, blue silken robe showing a beautiful silver stitching of the pair of eyes and seven stars, and her brown eyes mirrored her gentle smile as she greeted Liliana and Jackson with a nod of her head.

"Welcome to the house of the Moonmaiden", she said in a pleasant voice. "This is the first time that you are visiting this temple, is it not? Are you here for the evening ceremony, or do you have business with one of the clergy?"

"Well… yes", Liliana replied hesitatingly. "I am here for the ceremony."

The gaze of the priestess became surprisingly sharp all of a sudden.

"You are here for a reason, are you not?", she asked, her eyes watching Liliana's face intently.

"Well…", Liliana began, but then stopped, startled by the priests surprising question. How was she supposed to talk about the madness of her recent past, about that strange flight through the woods?

"I… I was lost in the wilds", she finally began, trying to ignore the way Jackson shifted uncomfortably at her side. "I was in the woods, alone, at night, searching for a way home… and I felt like Selune was… was watching over me."

She blushed and lowered her eyes.

"I just… I wanted to thank her for being my guide, for helping me not to give up."

She cast the priestess a quick gaze under her lashes and was surprised to see the other woman smile knowingly, without a trace of the impatient frown that she had expected for saying something so childish.

"I see", the priestess said simply as she reached for Liliana's arm, making an inviting gesture with her other hand. "You arrived just in time, sister – the ceremony will begin any minute now. Come!"

And with these words, she led them into the brightly lit house as the first stars finally cast their glittering light across the darkened sky.


	5. Slip Up

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

After leaving Greyburgh's appartment, Bishop just wandered aimlessly through the nightly streets of Waterdeep, just following the flow, not heeding where his steps were taking him, mulling over what he had learned just now.

Interesting. Not really unexpected, but interesting.

And very promising. It would be a delight, sharing all that information with her.

_Someone is in for a surprise._

Well, more than one surprise, to be exact. And none of them pleasant.

He smiled thinly, his thoughts dwelling on the moment he would tell her what he knew.

Would she break down? Would she cry? Would her world crumble?

He really hoped it would.

But afterwards, he'd have to deal with the brother, too. He knew about Bishop, and the bungled job, after all. Too dangerous to leave loose ends dangling.

He noticed that the streets he was walking through were getting less crowded, and looked around for the first time to find out where he was. Fairly broad streets, expensive looking appartment buildings or mansions, no shops, no inns... the North Ward?

The moment he thought it, he heard footsteps approaching. Two persons were heading in his direction.

Swiftly he melted into the shadow of the doorstep of the nearest building. There was no reason to hide himself, he was just walking the streets after all, but old habits died hard.

From his hiding place, he could see two figures approaching. One tall and broad shouldered, one small and slight. A couple? No. The taller figure was walking some steps behind the smaller one, keeping a respectful distance. Servant? Guard?

And something about the smaller figure, the gait and the posture, seemed strangely familiar.

Moonlight glinted on the studs of a leather armour, and reflected on the hilt of a sword the taller figure was carrying by his side.

A guard, then.

"I hope that my parents did not notice that I went out, Jackson", the smaller figure said. "I had no idea that the ceremony would take so long, and I really don't want you to get into trouble for accompanying me."

Bishop flinched when he heard the voice, and his hands balled into fists as the simmering fury in him started to boil.

_Her._

No wonder the silhouette had been so familiar.

"Don't worry about it, Miss Liliana", the guard's deep voice answered. "I just want to keep you safe."

"Please... do not feel bad about what happened, Jackson", the girl said, softly. "It was not your fault. I don't think that anyone could have stopped... those thugs... from doing what they were doing." She laid a small hand on the man's arm. "I am safe now, and that is all that matters, isn't it?"

"Yes, Miss Liliana", the guard answered, not sounding convinced. "Thank you. But please, let us continue. I don't feel at ease as long as you are out on the streets at night."

He could hear the smile in her voice as she continued her way down the alley. "You are the guard, Jackson. I will do as you say."

Bishop watched the two figures walk away, his eyes narrowed slightly, as curiosity won over anger for now.

_I don't think anyone could have stopped... those thugs._

Oh yes. The second and really surprising thing he'd learned tonight. Obviously, the girl had lied about who had held her hostage in the woods. Even Greyburgh had believed Bishop had made use of accomplices, so she seemed to have been truly convincing about it.

Why? Why not tell the truth? She knew his name, his past, could have set half of Faerun hot on his heels. But she had not.

It was a mystery. But he intended to find out.

Abruptly, Bishop pushed away from the door, and with long strides followed the two figures through the gas lit streets. When he reached the wall surrounding the girl's family estate, he jumped without hesitation and climbed over the wall.

On the other side, the warm glow of the gas lights kept out, it was truly dark. Bishop closed his eyes for a minute, to allow them to adjust to the darkness. When he opened them again, the light of the moon was enough to allow him to find his way through the nightly park.

He set off in the direction of the house when he heard a rustling noise as something approached quickly through the well-trimmed bushes. Seconds after that, a huge black dog jumped out and stopped before him, wagging its stubby tail furiously.

Bishop knelt down to greet his new friend. "Hey boy", he said softly, patting the dog's head. "I know I promised you a bone, but I did not plan on coming here tonight, so I'm afraid I don't have one with me right now. Next time, word of honour."

The dog whined, seemingly disappointed, but licked Bishop's hand nonetheless. Bishop scratched its ears, which brought an expression of mindless bliss on the animal's face.

Chuckling, and patting the furry head once more, Bishop got up and continued through the park. For a moment, the dog followed him, but then something else seemed to catch its attention, and it darted away.

The house looked quite different at night, a huge dark mass looming ahead. But here and there, some windows were lit up, so some of the occupants were still awake. Slowly, Bishop approached the balcony which he knew to belong to the girl's room, when the window behind that also lit up.

Apparently, she had arrived. And apparently, she had not run into her parents, else she would not have been able to go to her room right away.

For a moment, Bishop stared up with burning eyes. His quarry was so near. He just had to reach out...

No. Not yet. He still had... preparations to make.

Without thinking about it clearly, he grabbed one of the lower branches of a large oak tree growing in front of her balcony and swiftly climbed up, until he could see through the lit window.

There she was, sitting at the dressing table. He could watch her profile as she talked to the woman standing behind her, tenderly brushing the long, silvery hair. The slightly pointed ears of the elder woman spelled half elf as clearly as her tight bun and sober dress spelled governess.

The two women talked quietly, a sad smile on the girl's face, and a knowing, affectionate expression on the governess'.

Bishop watched as the governess deftly braided the girl's hair for the night, and a strange feeling crept up in him. For some reason, he started to feel uncomfortable, peeking in. They looked so close, one could see this was not just an employee going about her duty. There was love on the elder woman's face, like a mother watching her child. And the girl...

Bishop's thoughts were interrupted as the girl stood up, and the governess started to open the laces of her dress. Suddenly, every thought of revenge was wiped from his mind as his mouth went dry, and he watched as the dress fell to the ground, and the girl stepped out of it, now wearing nothing but a lacy underdress. Soon, even that was gone, and the girl stood there, bathed in the warm light of candles, wearing nothing, her skin shimmering like mother-of-pearl.

Bishop's heart was racing in his chest, and he could feel his breeches getting uncomfortably tight as the blood rushed into his loins. Before he realized, he had started to creep along the bough, to jump over, onto the balcony.

A small yip from below brought him back to his senses. Slowly, he bent his head and stared down, to see the dog dance around the trunk of the tree excitedly.

Groaning in desperation, Bishop pressed his knuckles into his eyes and tried to calm his breathing, carefully avoiding another glance through the window.

_Pathetic. Is that all it takes? A bit of bare skin, and you forget all about your revenge?_

_No! It's just..._

_Get a grip, all right? Yes, she is beautiful. Yes, she looks like _her_. But get a grip. Remember what she did to you._

As if he could ever forget.

Enough of this. Nothing to be gained from watching her tonight. It was too early to make his move. He was not ready yet. Not yet.

Bishop dropped out of the tree, landing nimbly on his feet. Immediately, the dog jumped up to him, and dropped something it held in its mouth, hackling, wagging its tail. Bishop looked at the small bundle at his feet, and shook his head.

"Caught a rabbit, did you?", he said, keeping his voice low. "And you brought it to me? You're a good boy. Thank you."

He patted the dog's head again, and the dog gave another excited yip.

"But this is your prey", Bishop continued. "Keep it. I have... my own prey to hunt."

And with a last glance up at the lit window, he turned around and disappeared between the bushes.

xxx

Later, sitting in the taproom of the Grey Serpent Inn, Bishop stared vacantly into his mug of ale.

Still thinking of how he had nearly lost it, back at the girl's mansion, he gritted his teeth. Oh, he would get back at her for this, too. Just another point on the bill he would present her soon.

Soon. But not yet, not yet. First, he had to prepare.

He wanted to enjoy himself, after all. Draw things out, bask in her fear and her pain. How he hoped that she would beg, that she would crawl, pleading for mercy. How he would relish in throwing it all back into her face, destroy all hope until she would be left a quivering, weeping bundle of despair.

_An eye for an eye._

His fingers clenched around the mug as he imagined how he would throttle her, oh so slowly, watching her eyes pop out with panic and lack of air, and then, right before she would pass out, he would relinquish his grip, would let her breathe again, until she had recovered.

And then he'd just do it again. Over and over.

And the knives. Oh yes, the knives. There were just so many truly painful, nonfatal ways to cut on a person. And he would demonstrate all of them to her.

Revenge would be so sweet.

But he had to wait for the opportune moment. If he rushed in, he would cheat himself out of his fun. Killing her quickly would be easy, bystanders or not, bodyguards or not. He grinned wryly, a humourless smile that left his eyes cold. Did she really think that one single guard would be able to stop him? She should know better. If he wanted to kill her swiftly, not even a dozen guards would be enough to save her. But a quick death was too good for her by far.

No. He'd take his time. Make her feel sorry.

So sorry.

Still smiling grimly, he lifted his head and let his gaze travel through the taproom. At this time of night, it was quite busy, guests of the inn, drinkers and some of the not-so cheap whores who worked the trade districts mingling freely.

He took a swig from his tankard when something caught his eye, and he nearly choked on his ale.

There, a few tables away, a woman was sitting on a man's lap, obviously going about her business. Nothing special about that. But what made him inhale his ale instead of swallowing it was the long, pale blonde hair that flowed freely down her back.

His heart pounding, he kept staring as the woman giggled and bent forward to whisper something into her customer's ear.

He could see a bit of her face, which was not entirely young anymore, and painted heavily with gaudy colours.

But the hair...

Actually, now that he looked closely, it was not entirely like Riana's. More white blonde than silvery, completely straight instead of slightly curly, and not quite as long and lustrous as hers had been.

But still.

His heart continuing to pound painfully, he watched the man running his hands through the wenches' hair and gritted his teeth as a stab of irrational anger pierced his chest.

Again it was another one touching that hair.

Before he could think more clearly about it, he stood up jerkily, his chair scraping over the wooden floor audibly, and put down his mug with a thump. Two long strides brought him over to the table with the woman. His hand shot out, closed around her upper arm like a vice and he forcefully pulled her from the man's lap.

She stumbled a bit at the sudden movement, but he held her up firmly by her arm.

While her customer, a middle aged man with grey hair streaked through his mouse coloured curls and the first traces of a beer belly, seemed too stunned to do anything, just gaping at Bishop wordlessly, she whirled around, her eyes narrowed to slits, and her hand shot out to slap him on the cheek.

Effortlessly, Bishop caught her hand and looked into her painted face.

As he'd thought, she was not in her first youth anymore, and the life she lead had left its traces behind. Her blue eyes were bloodshot, and there were bags beneath them that spoke of long nights and too much booze. Her thin lips were compressed into a firm line as she glared at him.

"What are you doing, asshole?", she hissed and tried to kick his shins.

Her customer had recovered and got up as well. "You...", he started, his hands balled to fists, obviously ready to fight.

Bishop just threw him a glance, smiling thinly. "Back off", he said, softly, and full of menace.

The other one, more than a head shorter than Bishop, looked into his smiling face, swallowed, and took a step back. "Fine", he mumbled. "I'm out of here. She's not worth having to pay for the furniture, after all."

His pride salvaged by that rational explanation, the man took several steps more backwards, then turned and walked out with as much dignity as he could muster.

The woman seemed to have a bit more of a spine, however. She tried to kick Bishop again. "Thanks so much", she hissed. "I have to pay the rent, you know?"

Bishop thoughtfully stared into her worn face. It would not do at all.

The hair, on the other hand...

He eased his grip a bit, but still held her firmly. "I'll pay double, if you do exactly as I say", he replied calmly.

Her eyes narrowed, but he could see a greedy spark igniting in them. "Normal fee is twenty gold", she said cockily.

Bishop laughed into her face. "I doubt you make that amount in a month", he said bluntly. "I'll give you ten. And I think you can consider yourself royally paid. If I'm satisfied, I might even make it fifteen. But you'll have to put a little effort into it for that."

He let go of her arm, and she took a step back, rubbing the place where his fingers had dug into her skin, and eyed him thoughtfully.

The chatter in the room, that had ceased when he had pulled her up, started again, now that it was clear there would be no brawl after all.

"Do exactly as you say?", she asked, slowly. "Well, that is my profession, isn't it? But there's rules."

"Rules?", he sneered. "I pay, do I? So I say what goes."

She shook her head. "Not entirely. There will be no hurting, you hear? No beating, no knives. If you do anything to hurt me, I'll scream so loud they will hear me in the next ward, understood? And I won't let you tie me up. I don't trust you, honey. There's something in your eyes that gives me the creeps."

He smiled at her. "You don't trust me, huh? Well, ain't you a clever one. Don't worry, I'm not interested in something like that."

She regarded him for a couple of moments longer, greed battling visibly with caution on her face. Then she shrugged.

"Fifteen it is, then", she said.

"_If_ I'm satisfied", he replied, dryly.

"You will be, darling, don't you worry", she said with a saucy grin and took his arm, snuggling up to him, obviously quite the professional now that she had made up her mind. "So what will it be? Want to go someplace private?"

"I have a room here", he said, putting his arm around her. "Why don't we just go there?"

"Whatever you like, sweetheart", she answered, giving him a fake glittering smile.

No. Her face would not do at all.

Up in his room, he closed the door behind them, freed his arm from her grip, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him, backwards, so that her back rested against his chest.

"Here's the deal", he whispered into her ear. "I really have to get rid of a lot of tension. You will help me with that. But no matter what I do, or what you do, you will not let me see your face. Understood? If I see your face just once, I will not consider myself satisfied. And you'll be lucky to see the ten, let alone the fifteen. Are we clear?"

"Whatever makes you happy", she shrugged.

He pushed her away.

"Suck me", he ordered harshly, leaning back against the door.

She bowed her head before she turned, so her face was hidden from his view by her hair, and knelt down in front of him. For a moment, he felt her fingers tugging at the lacings of his breeches, and then her lips closed around him.

He stared down at the bowed head with the long, fair hair, so close to his loins, and felt himself grow hard immediately. Her tongue probed his head, and suddenly he felt her throat constrict around him as she swallowed him down.

Involuntarily, his head fell back and connected with the wood of the door with a thud. A small moan escaped him. She had some skills alright.

Already feeling slightly weak in the knees, he opened his eyes again and stared down at her head, bobbing forward and backward now as she sucked him in again and again, her tongue swirling around him eagerly, her hair swinging back and forth with the motion.

He nearly came there and then.

Gritting his teeth, he fought the rising orgasm back while his hand clenched in her hair, slowing her down.

_Not so fast... want this to last longer..._

Obviously getting the message, she released him and bent forward instead, starting to lick his balls.

_Gods..._

_Have you done that with him, Riana? Knelt down before him, servicing him like that?_

_Why him?_

_I would have done anything to see you like this... feel you like this... anything..._

He felt his balls contract at the thought of Riana on her knees before him, and his legs started to tremble.

At this rate, he would not last a minute more.

Roughly, he shoved the wench back. She landed on her butt with a surprised gasp, but immediately turned her head away so he could not see her face.

"Enough of this", he said hoarsely. "Get up!"

Obediently, she climbed to her feet, her face still averted. He grabbed her shoulders and roughly pushed her on the bed, face forward.

He kicked off his boots and his breeches, then climbed the bed behind her. He grabbed her waist and pulled her up forcefully, until she knelt before him, her butt up in the air. He pushed her skirt up and was not surprised to find she did not wear anything underneath.

With one forceful thrust he pushed himself into her and moaned when her wet heat surrounded him completely.

"Riana...", he gasped.

He gripped her pelvis with both hands and started to pound into her mercilessly, a mixture of need, anger, longing and despair fueling his movements as his gaze stayed fixed on the fair hair that got whipped around her head with his fervid movements.

He saw her hands clench into the sheets and heard her gasping breath as she tried to meet his thrusts, and moaned again as heat swept through him.

_Riana..._

_I still can't be free of you._

_Her smiling face when she looked at the paladin, the warmth in her usually cool eyes then. The tender look on her face, and the provocative sway of her hips._

_Her scent when he managed to get close enough to smell her, that sweet, clear flowery scent that made something in him quiver with longing._

_The sun playing on her fair skin, her small breasts taut from the cold when he secretly watched her while she was taking a bath in a stream or lake._

He moaned again, deep in his throat, as the images stoked his desire, and the heat started to pool in his loins, his thrusts getting faster and faster.

_Firelight flickering over silver hair, a hand travelling slowly, teasingly over his chest and down his stomach, making his need flare like kindling._

_A trembling body in his arms, soft lips opening willingly under his._

_Her hands clutching at his shoulders as he drew her near, her body shivering when he pressed his hips against her to make her feel how much he wanted her._

_Fire, even desire burning in those beautiful violet eyes..._

With a hoarse cry, Bishop came, continuing to thrust into the woman wildly until he was completely spent. Then he collapsed onto her back, still shaking from the passion that had swept through his body.

Softly, he ran a trembling hand through the long fair hair.

"Lil...", he whispered, then broke off as his body went rigid.

_Lily...?_

_What..._

_No! No, no, no!_

With a desperate yell, he shoved the woman from the bed. She landed on the floor with a thud. "Get out!", he hissed.

She climbed to her feet and smoothed down her skirt, still keeping her face away from him.

"Aren't you forgetting something?", she asked. If she was surprised by his sudden force, it did not show in her voice.

Cursing, Bishop fumbled for his breeches and ripped his money pouch from the belt. It had to contain well over twenty gold. What the hell. "Take it, and get out", he barked and threw it at her.

She deftly caught it and expertly weighted it in her hand, then nodded. "Whatever you say, sweetheart", she replied and went to the door.

Bishop sat up and buried his face in his hands, his fingers clutching at his hair.

Her heard her open the door, then pause. "Whoever you thought of just now, I pity her", she said, then went out and closed the door before he could reply.

Bishop groaned and fell back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

How had this happened? How could she invade his mind like that?

"You'll pay for that, mousie", he whispered while his hands clenched into fists. "You'll pay dearly. Just you wait."

Now, she _really_ was going to suffer.


	6. A Walk in the Park

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

_I sincerely apologize to each and every one of you whom I still owe a reply or thanks, be it to a comment or a note or a fave. I truly want to answer everyone, but at the moment, I simply can't find the time. For this, my baby girl is entirely to blame. At the ripe age of eight months, she has decided that she's far outgrown the need for daytime naps. Which is why I simply can't get ANYTHING done. Believe me when I say that I'm often glad if I can find the time to shower. Yuk._

_And what little time I find, I spend working on the story, so we can keep the updates coming halfway regularly... and I hope that all of you think that at least, I got my priorities right here ;)_

_So please, bear with me - as soon as I can, I will answer again, because I believe that if you take the time to let me know what you think, the least I can do is answer you. I will try to explain this to the little one as well, but so far, she firmly believes that she's got the exclusive right to mommy's time. And that washing, eating or free time for mothers is completely unnecessary._

_Still, all of your comments and reviews make me very happy, and give me the motivation to work on the story in the evenings, when I'm so tired that I could fall asleep in my seat. So thank you. :)_

* * *

Liliana sat in one of the armchairs in her room, cross-legged, the leather-clad book on her lap. The windows to her balcony were open, with a soft summer breeze gently blowing the curtains and tousling her hair, but she was so absorbed in her reading that she had forgotten the world around her completely.

… _We followed the ranger into the woods, searching for the orc raiding party that had troubled the farms lying in the shadow of the Keep for the past months. None of us had been happy when the Captain had declared the man to be our guide, not even Lieutenant Starling, but after a few days out in the wilds, we were somewhat grateful that she had – for he seemed to know every tree and stick and stone, along with every hidden path, which in the end might have well saved our lives…_

Liliana shifted in the chair and stretched her legs, which had started to prickle uncomfortably. It felt a bit strange to wear soft suede pants instead of a dress, but for lounging in a chair with a book on her knees, a skirt was simply impractical, and so she had chosen a soft linen blouse and the pair of breeches instead.

But it must have been way over a year that she had worn this sort of arrangement, and she was lucky to have lost some weight in the woods, for the pants were still uncomfortably tight.

_I should have Telethar's make me a new one_, she mused as she turned another page of the book, _for walks through the park, or along the lake._

… _We had been on the hunt for almost three days, never seeing a sign of them. There were trails, but all old, and some of the men had already started to hope that the orcs had simply left the area when, on the forth day, we found their trail almost by accident – a stamped path that led around a steep slope in the woods, covered with undergrowth and dense-growing firs._

_The lieutenant ordered us to prepare for battle, and started to walk down the path, as the ranger suddenly spoke up. Go ahead, he said in that cold voice of his, but this reeks of a trap._

_He was certain that the orcs had left this trail to lead us right into an ambush, and that there was a shaman with them who had used his magicks to hide all their other tracks. The lieutenant argued with the ranger for a while, but in the end, it was decided that the lieutenant would follow the path with half of the troops, while the other half would follow the ranger along another path, to ambush the orcs that were supposedly ambushing us._

_I was in the group that followed the ranger over the steep hill and directly into the woods, and by Tyr – after what felt like an hour of consumptive marching, we could finally see the path again and hear our troops approaching… and saw the back of what seemed to be a dozen orc warriors, waiting in the cover of the undergrowth, their weapons ready._

_The sore feeling in our arms and feet suddenly forgotten, we carefully crept nearer, readying our crossbows. Go for their throats, the ranger whispered, his words almost lost in the sound of iron-clad feet, their armour's weak around their necks. _

_He readied his own bow, and there was a strange glint in his eyes as he turned around to stare at us, making a cool shiver run down my spine as he continued. Leave the shaman to me…_

Liliana felt a shiver of her own prickle in her neck as she read those words. She could hear Bishop's voice so clearly in her head, that underlying timbre of anxiety and excitement now that the hunt was about to begin, his cool smile and the dark glitter in his eyes leaving no doubt about who would walk away from this battlefield alive.

The predator, ready to strike… just like she had seen him in the hut, fighting those thugs.

_How often have you read these lines now, Liliana_, asked the soft voice in her head, _can you even say? And why do you keep reading them? Because it is one of the rare moments in the book where he is mentioned… or because it is the only part where he is described as a human, rather than a monster?_

It was not the first time that this thought had come to her mind, and just like before, it left her feeling highly uncomfortable. She knew that it probably would have been for the best to return the book to the archive, to keep its presence from making her think about _him_ whenever her eyes fell on the leathery binding….

She had gotten all the answers she needed, after all. Should have been able to let go now, to move on, to leave all her memories behind… but strangely enough, she could not.

She had been so certain that, after she had gotten her answers, she would be able to forget. That now, after learning about his past and solving most of the riddles, it would simply be over. But truth was – now that she had learned all these things, she thought even more about Bishop than before, mulling over Javroun's words again and again and again.

It was maddening.

Because if he truly was such a monster… how could he have been so nice to her?

Well, of course _nice_ was a relative term here. She hadn't forgotten a single of his cruelties, could still remember the pain when he had grabbed her hair forcefully to bring one of his points across.

But there was also the memory of their day out on the hunt, how he had explained the various tracks to her, and had even allowed her to find their meal, his words and gestures calm and encouraging.

No sneer in his voice, no cool glare in his eyes, he had just been… nice. Grumpy, yes, but still…

_And this is the core of your new-found confusion, is it not?, _whispered the soft voice in her head_, when there actually _is_ a part of him that is still human, that can be more than a cold-hearted killer and betrayer… why did he never show it to Riana - but to you?_

There was the sudden sound of laughter, and Liliana looked up in surprise as the door to her room was opened by one of their maidens and Evelyn, Rhiannon and Mariella walked inside, all three still giggling behind their hands.

The maiden made a quick curtsy.

"Miss Denham, Miss Adarbrent and Miss Arden for you, Miss Liliana."

With these words, she quietly left the room and closed the door while Liliana gaped at her friends, eyes widening with confusion. If the earth had suddenly opened to swallow the house, she couldn't have been more surprised.

"Hello, Lily", Evelyn said brightly as the three approached the sitting group. "Guess who we met on our way up here? Damian!"

She beamed, her cheeks reddening prettily, seemingly not noticing her friend's astonishment.

"We met him on the stairs, obviously deep in his thoughts, but he wished us a nice day, and hoped that we would enjoy ourselves."

"He kissed Evelyn's hand", Mariella piped up in an overly dramatic fashion, and the girls giggled again.

"I'm sorry, but… did we have an appointment today?"

The words had just left Liliana's mouth when the girls abruptly stopped their giggling, and something close to guilt appeared on their faces. She watched her friends shuffle uncomfortably from one foot to another, and felt the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach as her hands closed painfully tight around the book in her lap.

_Even my friends cannot stand my company any longer without feeling uncomfortable._

"Oh, Lily, we are so sorry", Evelyn said in a very small voice. "I know we should have asked first, but…" She cast Rhiannon a pleading look.

"Well, you know… it's fourth-day", the other girl jumped in. "And now that you're back… Jeanne said…"

_Fourth-day._

For a moment, Liliana felt the sudden urge to slap herself hard on her forehead.

How could she have forgotten?

For years now, the girls were gathering at her house on fourth-day, first to play, but as the years went by just to sit around, drinking tea, eating cookies and gossiping about everything and nothing at all.

She had been so lost in her thoughts of late that she had paid no attention to the days of the week at all, her mind still going on about Bishop and the days in the woods again and again.

But after another long night and day of brooding and strange, conflicting emotions, the thought of spending the next few hours with something as easy as laughter and chatter was simply wonderful, and she felt a strange warmth thaw the cold feeling in her heart as she smiled at the girls.

"We could come back next tenday, if you have other plans", Evelyn suggested still in that very small voice, not quite able to meet her friend's eyes. Mariella and Rhiannon first looked at each other, then at their hostess.

"No, it's alright", Liliana replied with a bright peal of laughter, now that she had understood the true reason for her friends' discomfort. "You do not disturb me. I just forgot, that is all."

She closed the book and placed it firmly on one of the small tables, then hopped up, her misery miraculously forgotten.

"Why don't you just sit down, and I'll order us some refreshments?"

When Liliana returned from the kitchen, she could hear the girl's lively talk already echoing down the corridor. With a grin, she took two steps at a time to get back to her room more quickly when a new voice suddenly mingled with the familiar ones, and Liliana felt a ghost of that sinking feeling resettle in her belly as she recognised the speaker.

"… thought it would have been _obvious_ that we would be meeting here today, but this isn't actually surprising, now is it?"

_You should have remembered that meeting the girls would mean meeting Jeanne as well,_ the soft voice in her head reminded her almost gleefully, the fact that her mind was finally beginning to make fun of her not doing much to raise her spirits.

The girls were all seated around the small table, their heads turning in unison when Liliana appeared in the doorway. As usual, Jeanne was sitting in the centre with their friends grouped around her, her dark hair pinned up in an intricate bun, and her dress a little too sumptuous for the occasion.

Just like Liliana's mother, Jeanne was one of those women who always managed to have not a single hair fall out of place, no matter where they went, and whose dresses never showed a single wrinkle that wasn't supposed to be there… which meant that she had little patience for those around her who suffered from a natural lack of perfection.

So the look she gave Liliana as she reappeared in the door reminded her painfully of the fact that she hadn't bothered today to curl up her hair, since she had decided to wait till the evening to have the curls look best for her Cedric, and that the soft linen blouse with the angel wings and the suede pants were by no means the appropriate attire for a young lady who was expecting guests.

There was a noticeable pause as Jeanne stared at Liliana, a pause that left the other girls shifting uncomfortably in their chairs.

"Lily didn't expect us", Evelyn finally said to no one in particular, her eyes firmly fixed on the small cherry wood table as if she was trying hard to avoid every-one's gaze.

Jeanne wrinkled her nose almost imperceptibly. "Obviously."

Her voice was carefully neutral, but the look in her eyes was so full of disapproval that it almost made Liliana cringe. She escaped the whithering stare by quickly turning around and closing the door, and then hurried over to her chair to sit down, closing her arms tightly around her legs and trying her best to become simply invisible.

_So much about showing Jeanne that I am worthy of her Cedric, that I have a right to marry into their family_, Liliana thought miserably, only half-noticing as two of their maidens offered tea and sandwiches from a tray that they had brought up from the kitchen.

For a short while, the chatter was dimmed by eating and drinking. Liliana ate one of the sandwiches without much enthusiasm, the delicious food turning to ashes in her mouth.

_Why do I even try to get back into her good graces? She will never forgive me for marrying Cedric, no matter what I do._

_Wait…_

A thought suddenly came to her mind, a thought so terrible that she did not dare to dwell on it, and she forcefully shook her head, as if the sudden motion could make it go away again.

"Oh, Lily, your sandwiches are always the best", Mariella sighed as she leaned back into her chair, her eyes falling on the book lying on the table next to her.

"What are you reading here?", she asked with a smile.

"Oh, it's… it's just a book", Liliana replied, cursing herself for the treacherous heat that rose in her cheeks, and for not stowing the book away in the first place. "About the _War of Shadows_."

Jeanne huffed.

"Oh, _please_, why would anyone want to read about something so _boring_?", she said in a voice that made Liliana sink even deeper into her chair, in another desperate attempt to become invisible.

"Well, it was a huge battle, was it not? Against that Shadowking?", Rhiannon replied, but blushed as Jeanne turned her hawk-like eyes on her.

"Oh, really – I mean, how much of a threat can it have been to Neverwinter when a backwater bumpkin like that Knight Captain could defeat it?" She wrinkled her nose again. "She came from a _swamp village_, after all. If it had been a _real_ threat, one of the nobles would have been in charge of that battle – like Sir Nevalle, or another member of the Nine. I met him once, did you know?"

She gave a small, affected laugh as the other girls gaped and cast her an admiring look.

"Oh, yes. He was the leader of the Neverwintan delegation last year, and attended the banquet that my father held in their honour. A perfect gentleman."

Jeanne delicately raised her tea cup, obviously greatly pleased to be the centre of attention again, and took a small sip, then grimaced.

"So believe me when I say that the bards only make it sound like such a big deal because nothing else happens these days… and that it is definitely nothing a _real_ lady should be interested in", she finished with a cool glance at Liliana, the tone of her voice clearly indicating that there would be no further talk about the subject.

Liliana never really knew what made her say it. But seeing Jeanne sitting there in all her self-righteous glory, cutting off Rhiannon's reply and scorning Liliana's interest as if their opinions mattered not the least bit, fully expecting that the girls followed her lead obediently…

_This is my house, and these are my guests_, Liliana thought as something seemed to snap inside her, and anger began to boil hot and fierce in her blood, _who does she think she is, to tell us what to do, what to wear, what to say, as if she owns us?_

"Maybe not everyone feels the same about these things, Jeanne", Liliana replied in a surprisingly cool voice as she sat up straight in her chair. "Maybe some of us _do_ think that it was an important battle… even if the leader of the troops was nothing but a cleric from a small village, and no noblewoman."

"I beg your pardon?", Jeanne replied in an equally cool voice, her eyebrows drawn up in disbelief that someone had dared to challenge her.

_What am I doing here?,_ a part of Liliana thought desperately, _she will make me pay for this, she always does_. But that cold, angry part of her just smiled.

"Well, you see – the King of Shadows wanted to restore the Illefarn empire of old… which means that his shadow reign would have ended right outside our city walls, if the Knight Captain had not stopped him. I do believe that this would have had a certain effect on all of us."

"I think Lily is right", Mariella said suddenly, looking unusually serious. All eyes turned to her, and Liliana felt a wave of satisfaction as she saw Jeanne's eyes grow wide at this sudden mutiny. "One of Nathaniel's friends at the militia was a part of the army that had been sent to the Mere, to fight alongside Neverwinter."

She paled visibly.

"He told horrible tales about the army of the undead, and how their own shadows suddenly fought against them. It must have been a nightmare."

"Really?", Evelyn said eagerly, her eyes bright with excitement. "You never told us about this. What else did he say?"

And even as the girls continued their chatter, now deeply absorbed in Mariella's news about the Battle of Crossroad Keep, Liliana kept staring at Jeanne across the room, her mind suddenly in a turmoil.

She could see the hard glint in the girl's dark eyes, the angry lines around her mouth deepening whenever her gaze met Liliana's, and felt a different kind of cold now coil in her belly as that treacherous thought returned to her mind, making goose bumps rise all over her body.

_Is it possible? And what if it is… what do I do?_

_xxx_

The afternoon sun glittered brightly in the waves of the lake, and the air was smelling of flowers and freshly mown grass. Fleecy clouds were scattered like white dots across the deep blue sky, and the birds were chirping merrily in the trees and volieres of the grand estate. Liliana and Evelyn walked slowly through the park, picking flowers and grasses as they went, chatting.

At least Evelyn was chatting, the girl talking happily about everything that came to her mind, while Liliana mostly listened, simply enjoying her friend's company, even when her mind sometimes wandered astray, her thoughts still circling around the events of the morning again and again.

It had almost been torture, to endure the girls' endless chatter and to avoid Jeanne's icy stares during their lunch until they had finally said their farewell, and only Evelyn stayed behind, her lively presence a more than welcome distraction.

"…and it sounded really gruesome what Mariella told us about that battle in the Mere, did it not? And did you see Jeanne's face when you told her that not everyone deems these things unimportant?"

She beamed at Liliana, her reddish-brown hair shimmering brightly in the golden sun.

"It was about time that someone told that harpy to hold her tongue. You were so brilliant!"

Liliana cast her friend a weak smile. "She will make me pay for it, though. We all know how kindly Jeanne takes to such things", she replied gloomily as she carefully cut some dark roses from a bush, not quite able to share Evelyn's excitement.

"Oh, who cares?", laughed the girl, rubbing her hands gleefully. "I am there for you, and the girls, too, should she find her tongue again. And what can she do, anyway?"

_Is it possible? Did she really pay Bishop to get me killed, so that I would not marry Cedric?_

The icy cold was coiling in her belly again, but Liliana just shrugged and cast her friend another weak smile, desperately searching for a change of subject.

"Thank you so much for staying here, and for helping me with these bouquets." She indicated at the baskets full of flowers, leaves and grasses. "I know that I promised Cedric to make some as decorations for the barbecue tomorrow, but the last days went so fast… I doubt I would have finished them all in time."

Evelyn smiled gently as she climbed on a small bench to cut some ivy from the arbour, circling the filigree piece of wood.

"Why should I not help you?", the girl replied as she handed Liliana the small branches. "That's what friends are there for, right?"

She cast her friend a sly glance from under her long lashes. "And besides, we all know how good you are with these. You will need all the help you can get."

Liliana blushed furiously, but laughed nonetheless, the cold in her stomach thawing a little.

"Well, I'm more into music, I guess." Then she frowned. "And my bouquets aren't _that_ bad."

Evelyn laughed and hopped from the bench, her eyes sparkling brightly. Liliana felt a sudden sting in her heart when she recalled how Evelyn had sat in her chair, shoulders hunched and her eyes always downcast, not able to meet any-one's gaze.

_This is all Jeanne's doing. She has been bullying us for years, using her age and advanced position to make us comply, not daring to think for our own. But not anymore._

Liliana clenched her fist around the knife in her hand.

_I promise you that she will never bully you again. I will stand by your side, and I will not abide it._

"Do you have some apples?", Evelyn asked brightly, obviously noticing nothing about her friend's dark mood.

Liliana took a deep breath to relax, then nodded, carefully stretching her aching hand.

"There are some trees in the outer garden. But the apples will still be very small at this time of the year, and really sour."

Evelyn winked, her eyes sparkling.

"Then it's a good thing that they are just for decoration, right?"

She suddenly lifted her skirt and hurried down the path, towards the lake.

"The last to reach the trees is an ogre!", she laughed, her long hair whipping after her.

"Hey!", Liliana shouted, hurrying down the path carrying their two baskets, but feeling strangely lighthearted as she did so.

A short while later, they were both sitting on a bench under the apple trees, a basket on either side, wheezing.

"Un…fair", Evelyn gasped, her face pink. "You… wear… pants."

Liliana grinned, using the hem of her blouse to get some air to her flushed cheeks.

"You're talking rather cockily, dear… for an ogre."

The girl made a huffing sound, but did not reply. Liliana let her eyes wander slowly over the gnarled trees towards the lake, glittering brightly in the sun only a few yards away. It had been a long time since she had felt peaceful, and she was thankful for it.

"It has been a while since I have been in this part of the garden.", she mused, smiling. "I had forgotten how beautiful it can be here, with all these old trees and wild-growing bushes."

"I am so glad that you're back."

Liliana turned around, puzzled, and found Evelyn watching her intently, her cheeks still flushed, but with a very solemn expression on her face.

"It was so horrible when you were gone", the girl went on, her voice quivering a little as she did. "We all went looking for you, but then the boys demanded that we returned to camp, and continued their search with the watchmen alone."

The girl's eyes were very large.

"We waited till dusk, but still searched the area close to the camp, shouting for you. But when you didn't return… the men packed our things and sent us back to the city. At first, I was convinced that they were just thoughtful, but now I'm certain that they just did not wanted us to be around, should they find your… your body."

She gasped, looking at the edge of tears. That cold, sinking feeling, momentarily forgotten, returned a thousandfold, but Liliana reached for her friend's shoulder and pressed it gently.

"I did come back, Eve", she replied soothingly, but her forced smile did not feel very convincing, even for her. "See? Everything turned out all right."

"It must have been so horrible", the girl went on, her voice so low that even Liliana had to lean closer to hear the words. "Out there in the hut, with these men."

She shuddered.

Liliana felt a different lump form in her belly. Images of her days in the hut came to her mind, quickly followed by all the beautiful lies that she had told at her return, and she shifted uncomfortably. What in the Nine Hells had she been thinking?

The wind stirred the trees and rustled softly in the bushes nearby, its cold draught a balm to her heated skin. She stared into Evelyn's unhappy face, uncertain what to do.

_All the time, I have been thinking about nothing but my own sorrow. But I am not the only one who suffered during those days. How did Cedric feel? Or my parents? Or Damian?_

Silently reprimanding her for her selfishness, she pressed her friend's shoulder again, and her smile became more genuine as she spoke.

"I am fine, Eve."

"Really?" The girl's eyes were still very large, but she reached for Liliana's other hand and pressed it gently. "I am your friend, you know? I cannot even imagine how this must have felt for you, being out there, all on your own. But… sometimes it helps to talk."

Liliana sat there, thunderstruck, her emotions suddenly in a turmoil. She sat there, staring into Evelyn's gentle face, and for the length of a heartbeat, she felt the almost irresistible desire to tell her friend everything – about Bishop, and his wolf, and how complicated everything had become since she had returned…

But in the end, she just swallowed and pressed Evelyn's hand reassuringly, her palms feeling strangely clammy all of a sudden.

_I still cannot say it. Why can I not say it?_

"I am fine", Liliana replied, her voice suddenly very rough.

For a moment, it seemed as if Evelyn wanted to disagree, her mouth opening slightly in protest. But then she shut it again, and smiled instead.

"Okay, Lily. But when you're fine, we should pick some apples, and sit down to work."

Liliana nodded, forcing her face into an answering smile, and the girl stood up and climbed the arm of the bench, reaching for the nearest branch and starting to pick some of the small, green fruits.

"Will you play us something on your harp later?", Evelyn asked eagerly as she handed the first apple to her friend. Liliana couldn't help but smile at the happy expression on the girl's face, their grim talk seemingly forgotten.

_Nothing dampens your spirits, dear, does it?_

"I'd love to", she replied, carefully placing the fruit into one of their baskets. "But Cedric invited me to the _Nightsong_ this evening, and I still have preparations to make."

Evelyn giggled, her cheeks flushing treacherously as she did so. Liliana frowned.

"Do you know something I don't?", she asked a bit tersely.

The girl cast a conspicuous look around, but the winds rustling in the trees aside, they were all alone.

"Alright", Evelyn said eagerly, lowering her voice into an excited whisper. "Actually, it's a surprise, and I promised Cedric not to tell you, but you will love it."

Liliana's frown deepened.

"When did you meet Cedric?", she asked, her voice a little sharper as she had intended. Fortunately, Evelyn didn't seem to notice.

"I met him yesterday when he was on his way back to work. He had just booked your table." She beamed. "Do you remember that bard lady you told me about, the one who brought you back to the city?"

Liliana's heart gave a little jump. "Deliah?"

"Exactly!" Evelyn raised her arms in excitement and began to sway dangerously on the spot. Liliana quickly jumped forward to grasp the girl around the hips, only letting go of her friend after Evelyn had reached for the branch again to steady herself.

"Guess what? She will perform in the _Nightsong_ tonight. The theatre has been booked out for weeks." She smiled evilly. "Rhiannon told me that Jeanne tried to get a table herself, already a while ago. How Cedric managed to get one, I do not know, but the harpy was highly displeased as she found out."

Liliana rolled her eyes, but felt a wave of excitement run through her. "That would have made my day – the first evening that Cedric and I are going to spend alone in weeks, and then having Jeanne sitting next to our table."

Evelyn laughed and bent down to hand her friend a couple of apples, but some of the fruits fell out of her hand and rolled swiftly across the grass.

"Oi!", the girl called loudly. "They try to escape."

Liliana laughed. "That cannot be permitted."

And with a mischievous smile, she quickly ran over the grass and knelt down to catch the apples, their rash attempt at escaping coming to an unseemly end at the edge of a thicket made of scrubs of hazel and blooming azalea.

"Got them!", she called brightly as she jumped up again, only to freeze in mid-motion, her heart now hammering madly in her chest.

She whirled around, her pulse pounding loudly in her ears, and stared around wildly, but the garden was empty and quiet. She drew a shivering breath, but the air smelled of nothing but grass and flowers… and not a single trace of that familiar scent of sun and leaves that she had imagined only a moment ago.

_Gods, help me,_ she thought, her pulse still pounding in her ears. _I am starting to imagine things._

"Lily?"

Evelyn suddenly appeared by her side, carrying the two baskets, a question in her eyes.

_Get a grip, Lily_, the soft voice whispered urgently in her head. _Relax. Breathe._

"I got them", she repeated in a falsely bright voice, simply putting the apples down into one of the baskets and taking it from Evelyn. The girl cast her a strange look, but Liliana simply walked on, trying to calm her madly beating heart.

"Let's go back to the mansion, shall we?", she said still in that falsely bright voice, her legs feeling strangely wobbly as she walked down the path. Evelyn frowned, her eyes filled with confusion, but simply hurried past her without a word.

Only as they had reached the top of the stairs that led to the upper terrace and into the great dining room, Liliana finally turned around, her heart still in her throat. The garden lay empty before her. Only Brutus could be seen on one of the paths, sniffing on one of the bushes, his tail wagging as he did so.

"Lily?"

Evelyn's voice could be heard from the other end of the terrace, and Liliana turned around, her pulse slowly returning to normal.

"I'm coming."

But as she followed the girl into the cool shadows of the room, she did not know what frightened her most – that she had imagined his scent, or that her heart had begun to beat so madly as she did… or that she simply could not lie to herself enough to convince her that it had been solely induced by fear.

xxx

Liliana cast a careful look into the hallway. As always, the house was full of voices at this time of day, with dusk closing in, the servants going about their business to make the house ready for the night - but no one could be seen in the long corridor.

She took a deep breath, and frowned uneasily at the anxiety that had seemed to hold her in an iron grip since this afternoon, not even starting to ebb away. With a sigh, she firmly closed the door to her room before she turned around, fighting her nervousness and indecision.

Evelyn had already said her farewell, and Nerdanel would now be busy in the kitchens, organising the activities of the staff for the next day. And that was a good thing. What she was about to do right now was not illegal, of course, but if you grew up in a household like this, you learned to value the gift of privacy… and this was something she really wanted to keep private.

With hesitant steps, she slowly crossed the room. The sun had just reached the line of the trees, flooding the room with its golden light and making the glass jewels in the iron frame of her mirror sparkling brightly, with little stars now dancing over the wooden floor and lush carpet that covered it.

It was a wonderful work of craftsmanship, made of millions of knots, a valuable gift that her father had received many years ago from a fellow merchant in Amn. But today, Liliana had no eye for the beautiful woodland scenes woven into it as she knelt with some difficulty at one of its ends, silently cursing the wide skirt of the dress she was now wearing, and grabbed one of its corners to deftly throw it aside.

She took a few steps into the room, silently counting the wooden planks, and then knelt again, pressing hard against one side of a certain piece of wood. The other end lifted with a small cracking noise, and Liliana swiftly reached for that end to remove the plank.

She had found this weak spot in her floor years ago, simply by accident, but as a child of a family that was constantly surrounded by their friendly but gossiping staff, she had not hesitated to use this hole for those possessions that she really did not want to share with anyone – even Nerdanel.

Liliana let her eyes wander over the small space searchingly, trying to tell apart the various shapes, barely lit in the dusty half-light. Her diary lay there, together with a quail's egg, a beautiful white pebble that looked a bit like a rabbit, and a silken ribbon from a man's garment, among other things. But this was not what she was looking for.

The wood felt rough under her fingers as they closed hesitatingly around the carving. Liliana placed it carefully onto the floor, then put the plank back and stood up, the carving now in one hand, to pull the carpet back onto its place.

Slowly, she walked through the room to sit down at her dressing-table, turning the piece of wood carefully in her hands, trying not to dwell on the feelings its sight awoke in her chest.

_Why did you have to keep it?_

Such a good question. On the first day after her escape, she had returned to her room after lunch only to find out that the maidens had taken away Bishop's things. The tunic, the breeches, the length of rope… all gone, as if they had never existed.

It still infuriated her.

Why had everyone been so keen to pretend that these terrible events had never happened? Not that she would have liked to keep them, mind you… but she would have liked to put them away on her own. So that by discarding them, she would have been able to let go… at least a little.

So when she had found the carving under her bed later, seemingly ending there after falling out of the pocket of the breeches, she had not hesitated to stow it away at her hiding place, knowing that if any of her family had found out that this piece of wood still existed, they would have demanded to have it thrown away as well… and thinking about the way everyone had tried to force her to pretend that the last few days had never happened, she had truly _wanted_ to keep it as some kind of last proof, as a reminder.

Now she really wished she hadn't.

A glitter of light caught her eye, and she looked up, surprised, only to see her own reflection staring back at her from the mirror, and a different kind of anxiety grabbed her heart.

After Evelyn had said her farewell, she and Nerdanel had spent the last hour to prepare herself for her meeting with Cedric. Now her hair lay in silvery curls around her face, some of them tied up in an intricate bun on the back of her head. She had changed the blouse and pants for a light dress in rich red colours, decorated with intricate embroideries and an expensive golden trim. A golden brooch adorned her chest, the delicate jewellery a gift from Cedric's mother, and she had even laid on some rouge and kohl to accentuate her eyes.

In less than an hour, her love would be here to spend the evening with her, and she had tried her best to look pretty for him… even Jeanne would have approved of her looks this time. So why did she feel like a stranger was looking back at her where only her reflection should have been, cheeks flushed with excitement… and not so deathly pale, even despite the make-up?

_Do you really need an answer to that question?_

Unfortunately, she did not.

_You are so pathetic,_ she told the girl in the mirror, _you should not even _think_ about seeing him again. Because if you ever do, it only means that he has finally come to kill you… and what a pleasure that would be!_

She stared down at the piece of wood in her hand, that roughly carved lily, and felt that sinking feeling in her stomach again as she remembered how she had watched Bishop carving it through tear-filled eyes, and how he had suddenly thrown it away with a violent yell, his face looking livid in the light of the fire.

_Get your filthy hands off me. You are nothing but a common thug, crawling around in the dirt. You are disgusting. You are scum._

She almost flinched at the memory of her harsh words, spoken in the childish notion of paying him back for playing her, for making her believe that he felt something for her, for making her care…

Was that why she wanted to see him again? To tell him that she was sorry, that she regretted her cruel words?

_And what next, Liliana? Tell him that you never would have played him, if you had known it all? That you would have laid down your life, just to spare his feelings?_

She looked into the mirror again, and was startled to see that she had become even paler, anger and embarrassment now churning in her belly, forming a tight knot.

_Oh yes, that would be rich. What do you think he would have to say to that? Do you think he would let you live? Forgive you? Kiss you?_

Liliana jumped up so fast that her chair scraped over the wood with a screeching sound before it toppled over and fell onto the floor, clattering loudly on the wooden planks. In a motion so fast that she barely registered what she was doing, she lifted her hand and threw the carving away in such a violent way that it added a dent to the blue silk tapestry of her room before it ricocheted off the wall and rolled under her bed and out of sight.

_How_ dare _you say such a thing_, she told the voice in her head, her chest heaving heavily. _I don't want his kisses. I don't!_

"Is this an inconvenient time?"

She whirled around, her heart catching in her throat, and her eyes widened as she saw Damian leaning against her closed door, his hands behind his back, watching her intently with his brows drawn up.

_Merciful gods, he must have seen it all. Why didn't I hear him come in?_

"Damian", she said, trying to keep her voice calm and steady while she forced a smile onto her face, "No, of course not."

For a moment, he simply watched her, his gaze still questioning. Then he smiled.

"What was that offending creature?", he asked, his chin pointing towards her bed as he pushed himself away from the door to slowly cross the distance between them.

"Oh… nothing", Liliana replied hastily. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, and so she knelt to set up the chair again, doing her best to avoid her brother's gaze. "It was… just a carving."

"I never thought you valued dear Cedric's gifts so lowly", Damian replied smoothly when he leaned against her dressing-table, sounding slightly amused.

"_No_", Liliana replied with a sudden vehemence. Damian cocked his eyebrows again, obviously surprised by her reaction, and she swallowed, trying to get her feelings under control. "It's not Cedric's. It was… it was a gift from… Jebediah."

Now Damian's grin widened noticeably.

"Well, then I promise not to tell the old man that you don't hold _his_ gifts at the highest esteem."

Liliana cast her brother a very stern look, but its effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that her cheeks were still flaming, and that a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as well.

"He is not _that_ old, but I would appreciate your discretion." She sat down on her chair again, trying to ignore a sudden wave of uneasiness that crept slowly down her spine.

_So one lie always seems to follow another these days. Tell me, Liliana – what will you do on the day when the walls of your fragile house of lies finally come tumbling down around you?_

"What are you hiding behind your back?", she asked in a strangely high-pitched voice, desperately searching for a way to distract her from that more than unwelcome thought.

Damian winked.

"Don't worry, little sister", he smiled, "You will like it."

And with that, he pulled a small bowl from behind his back. Three dark pieces of bakery lay inside the white porcelain, filling the room with a smell that made Liliana's stomach growl with longing.

"Muffins?", Liliana asked in astonishment.

Damian shrugged, still smiling.

"It so happened that I just passed the kitchen as Adele pulled them out of the oven. I think they were actually meant as a present for your barbecue tomorrow, but strangely enough, she did not mind me choosing a new destination for these three fellows."

Liliana laughed, relieved to feel her dark mood lifting a little.

"I don't find that surprising at all", she said with a wink. "She could never refuse you anything."

Damian just smiled and said nothing, but Liliana thought to see a pleased glint in his eyes and had to fight hard not to shake her head in mock reproval. Every female member of the staff seemed to adore Damian, and although he had never said a thing about it, Liliana could tell that he had always enjoyed the attention immensely. He lifted the bowl to hold it out to her invitingly.

"Muffin?", he asked, that glimmer still in his eyes.

Liliana stared at the three small balls longingly, her hands already twitching towards them as their sweet scent rose into her nostrils once more, making her mouth water noticeably. But she just sighed and shook her head.

"I would love to", she replied, casting the bakery a last longing look. "But I just painted my lips. Cedric will be here soon, and then we will go to the _Nightsong_ together. But I'm happy that you thought of me."

She cast her brother a brilliant smile and was a bit startled to see him watching her intently all of a sudden, an almost searching expression in his eyes.

"You know I am always thinking about you, little sister", he replied, the tone of his voice light compared with the intensity of his gaze. "You sure you don't want one?"

Liliana simply nodded. For a moment, Damian held her gaze, than he shrugged and put the bowl down on her dressing-table, the look on his face saying clearly _your bad _when he took one of the dark pastries to take a small bite.

"I _am_ thinking a lot about you these days, Liliana", he repeated between two bites while Liliana watched him eat the muffin in something close to envy. His grey eyes were still piercing, questioning. "How are you feeling?"

At his words, a strange warmth spread through her body, tickling her gently, and Liliana cast her brother a warm smile as she felt her dark mood finally fading away.

"Do you know how happy I am that I have you?", she replied, smiling. "And not only because you bring me muffins", she added with a wink. "I believe that you and Evelyn are the only people here who really care how I truly feel."

For the length of a heartbeat, something flickered across his face as she spoke the girl's name, something almost cold and unfeeling, but the emotion was gone so quickly that Liliana could not be certain.

_That cannot have been… contempt? But he has always been so kind to Eve, so courteous… I wonder what happened between them that he treats her so strangely these days…_

"It must have been so hard", Damian went on, his voice calling her back to the present, sounding so sympathetic, so soothing. "Out there with these men…" He paused for a moment, and Liliana almost flinched under the weight of his gaze. "Did they mention why you were brought there?", he continued almost casually, the soft tone of voice not quite matching the intensity of his gaze. "Did they say something about… their employer?"

There was a short moment of panic as Liliana hastily tried to recall the story she had told that officer from the Watch, and found that her memory eluded her somehow.

_And here it begins, Liliana. Do you believe me now that you would have been much better off with the truth?_

"No, I… they said nothing about it. They… did not talk much to me anyway", she replied in a subdued voice, her eyes now fixed on her hands in her lap so that she would not have to meet Damian's questioning gaze any longer. "I think they… they did not work for anyone. They probably wanted the ransom all for themselves."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lean forward, and then his hand touched her shoulder, his fingers gliding gently across her skin, towards her neck.

"Poor Lily", he murmured, and there was something in his voice beside sympathy that she could not quite name. Something that sounded almost like… relief? "All on our own, with no one to help you. I think…"

There was a sharp knock on the door, and one of their maidens entered, making a quick curtsy with the doorknob still in hand.

"Sir, there's a visitor for you."

"A visitor?" Compared to his soft murmur, Damian's voice now sounded almost harsh, like the crack of a whip. "Who?"

The maiden blushed a little. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't know. Miss Nerdanel just sent me to get you, and that you should better hurry."

Damian gave a strange, impatient huff, but pressed Liliana's shoulder reassuringly one last time before he went for the door without another word. The maiden cast Liliana an apologetic smile and wanted to step out of the door again, when another maiden appeared in the doorway, casting her co-worker a bewildered glance. The girl gave a small shrug and disappeared into the hallway.

"Miss Liliana, Mister Silverton's carriage has arrived."

_Cedric._

A small wave of excitement welled through her at this thought, and Liliana cast the maiden a brilliant smile.

"Thank you, Betsy. I will be down in a minute."

She quickly got up, but then paused to check her hair and dress for the last time in the mirror, and her eyes fell on the muffins that still stood on her table, their sweet smell still beckoning.

_Painted lips are so overrated_, Liliana thought as she quickly reached for one of them, moaning in delight as she took her first bite, the door closing silently behind her.

xxx

Her mother was waiting for her when she entered the Great Hall. Liliana cast her a small smile and then lifted her skirt with both hands as she climbed down the long stairs, careful not to step on the trim of her dress.

"There you are", her mother said warmly as soon as she reached the floor. "And you are looking so lovely!"

Liliana smiled as her mother patted her cheek affectionately, but felt that smile freeze on her face as her gaze fell on Damian and her father, standing on the other side of the hall, talking to a familiar face.

"That is that young officer from the Watch, is it not?", Liliana asked in a strained voice, a sudden chill creeping down her spine. "The one who questioned me?"

_What is he doing here?_

"Yes, yes, but that doesn't matter", her mother replied in that slightly shrill voice that allowed no further argument.

"But what does he want?", Liliana insisted. From the look on Coulter's face, it had to be something severe.

"I do not know, and I did not ask", her mother replied impatiently.

"Look,", she said tersely, her hand reaching firmly for her daughter's chin to turn her eyes away from the men. "He wanted to speak with Damian, so this has nothing to do with you. You will go now and spend a lovely evening with your fiancee at the _Nightsong_, and do not burden yourself with these things. Understood?"

Liliana smiled, but couldn't help but to cast another last glance in the direction of the men, watching them leave for one of the parlors, obviously deep in conversation.

"You're right, mama", she replied with a small sigh, trying to fight down the uneasiness that had settled on her shoulders once more. "I shouldn't keep Cedric waiting."

Her mother patted her on her cheek again, that warm smile back on her face.

"That's my girl", she said approvingly. "Enjoy yourselves."

When Liliana stepped out of the front door, she saw Cedric already waiting at the feet of the marble stairs, talking quietly to his driver. He turned as he heard her steps, and her heart gave a sweet ache when she saw the look in his eyes as he watched her approach, casting her one of these bright smiles that had won her heart so long ago.

She did her best to look dignified while walking down the stairs, but couldn't resist to make a small pirouette as soon as she reached the landing, the gravel at her feet giving a soft, crunching sound at her light movement.

"And?", she asked with a coquettish grin. "Are you satisfied?"

Cedric took one of her hands and kissed it deeply. The touch of his cool lips on her skin sent a tingle down her spine, and she could barely repress a childlike giggle. Here was the joy and excitement that she had been waiting for all day, and all thoughts about Bishop and that officer from the Watch had finally fled her mind.

_This is what I have been waiting for_, she thought happily. _We are having a whole evening ahead of us, my Cedric and I, how it's supposed to be. No more confusion, no more lies._

Cedric cast her another warm smile, his other hand gently reaching up to caress her cheek.

"You look so lovely", he said admiringly, his voice sending a comfortable shiver down her spine.

"Even with the curls?", she asked, squeezing the hand that still held hers. Cedric only smiled.

"I love you", he replied gently. "And your curls."

He lifted one of them to his mouth to kiss it gently, and Liliana felt a different kind of heat creep into her cheeks as she stared into his warm, dark eyes, her own watching the sensual movement of his lips as they touched her hair.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that she had no painting on her lips anymore. The thought of Cedric's mouth on hers, the dark compartment of the carriage hiding them from prying eyes, sent another sweet shiver down her spine, and she beamed at him, feeling wonderfully light-hearted and carefree for the first time in days.

Cedric took a step back and offered her his arm.

"My lady?", he asked with a twinkle in his eyes. Liliana couldn't help but to notice how handsome he looked in his dark blue suit. "Shall we go, then?"

There was the soft sound of small feet hurrying fast over the gravel, and Liliana had only a moment to register that Brutus was sprinting towards them, his hackles raised, and that he was baring his teeth in a way that had nothing to do with his usual happy dog grin... and then he had already crossed the distance between them, snatching at Cedric's out-stretched arm.

She reacted on pure instinct, reaching for the collar around the dog's neck and pulling with all her strength in the very same moment when Brutus was actually jumping to bury his impressive teeth deep into Cedric's forearm. Luckily enough, the young man had also noticed the dog's approach and had shied away from the animal, so that Brutus' teeth only caught the hem of his sleeve.

The fabric of the jacket gave way with a sharp, ripping sound when the dog was pulled away from its target, shredding the expensive brocade between its teeth while growling threateningly deep in its throat.

"Stop, Brutus, stop", Liliana shouted, her voice sharp and commanding. "Bad dog. Sit. Sit!"

She was still pulling the dog back, one hand holding its collar tightly while the other was pushing hard against its rear, and the animal reacted instantaneously to its training, sitting down and beginning to whine when it suddenly realised that it was actually being scolded for doing something wrong.

Liliana let out a sigh of relief, her gaze wandering between Cedric and the dog to see the young man looking as shocked as she probably did, staring both at her and the animal with wide eyes, his left sleeve now hanging in shreds.

"What…?", he said, sounding dazed.

"I don't know", Liliana replied somewhat helplessly, still holding Brutus firmly in place with both hands while the dog was now sitting calmly at her feet, whining quietly. "He's never done that before when someone was here on the grounds and accompanied by one of the family. And it's not like you never visited us before... this just doesn't make sense."

There was the sound of fast footsteps approaching, and James the driver hurried around the carriage, looking concerned.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Yes, James, everything is under control", Cedric replied, obviously recovering quickly from the shock now that the worst was over. His smile was warm and full of affection when his gaze wandered back to Liliana. "Miss de Lavrans handled the situation exemplary."

She cast him an answering smile, blushing at her love's unexpected praise, but then her gaze returned to the driver.

"Could you please go and get Jebediah from the gate, James, would you be so kind?"

It took the driver only a moment to return with the man, the old gatekeeper wringing his hands in dismay as he shuffled over the gravel, looking stricken.

"Oh, Miss Liliana, Mister Silverton, I'm so sorry…", he stammered, his thin voice sounding even higher than usual.

"I don't know what has gotten into him, Jebediah", Liliana said, pointing at the dog who was now getting up to walk over to its master, whining even more pitifully and trying to lick the man's hand, now gentle as a dove.

"I will keep him away, Miss", the gatekeeper assured her as his hand closed around the collar of the dog in a surprisingly tight grip. "From now on, he will only get out on the premises when it's dark, I promise."

His gaze returned to Cedric, begging for understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Sir."

Cedric turned his good-natured smile towards the gatekeeper. "Nothing happened, Jebediah. He only ruined the sleeve, and blue isn't exactly my colour anyway."

Liliana felt her own smile widen as sweet warmth rose in her heart, melting the icy core of uneasiness that had still been wrapped around her chest. This was one of the many reasons why she wanted to marry him - what other man would have reacted so decently in a situation like this?

"I'm really sorry about your jacket, that he ruined it", she replied nonetheless when Jebediah dragged the dog away, scolding it quietly under his breath. Cedric grinned.

"Why? The sleeve is just a bit ruffled, and don't you think I look dashing with it, like a scoundrel?"

He playfully brandished his arm, still grinning, and she laughed, reaching for it to link her own with his.

"You always look dashing", she replied, and blushed even more at the smile that now showed on Cedric's face.

"If that is so, shall we try again to leave this place, my lady, for a night full of joy and entertainment?"

Her mind readily conjured the image of them both once more, snuggled up comfortably in the compartment of the carriage, and Liliana could feel the beat of her heart quicken ever so slightly as she made a quick curtsy and then gently reached for his arm again, beaming as he led her to the open door of the carriage.

"I am ready whenever you are, my lord."

Still smiling, she stepped into the carriage and moved a bit to the side when Cedric followed her into the compartment, pulling the door close behind him. There was a wonderful evening ahead of her, and she would not let it be spoiled by her childish doubts and fears.


	7. Preparations

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

_I'm still overdue with a lot of replies. Once more, sorry - people keep telling me things will get better some day. I just hope they're right. ;)_

* * *

Bishop woke early in the morning after a night of fitful, disturbed sleep, feeling anything but refreshed. His mind had just kept wandering back to the moment he had nearly called the whore by that name.

The _wrong_ name.

It had taken him a long time to accept the fact that Riana had managed to worm her way into his heart. He had fought his feelings for her doggedly, up to the point of betraying her to the enemy to punish her for the way she had made him feel, and for blithely preferring another man after she had made him fall for her. For not even _realizing_ what she was doing to him.

It was only afterwards, after the pain her death caused him proved to be so much worse than anything before, that he had to admit to himself that he had been fighting a losing battle. That nothing he did had been able to rout her from his heart. That despite everything she had done to him, and he had done to her, he still loved her. That not even her death could change that.

And that through his betrayal and her death, he alone had bereft himself of any hope there might ever have been for his love to be anything but futile.

It had been hell. His own, personal version of hell. And there was no escape from it.

But now, to find that for some reason, Riana had not been the only woman on his mind yesterday – it made him want to howl with fury.

_Not another one. I can't deal with that. I just can't. I'll go crazy._

_It's normal that you're confused. Calm down. It's just the way she looks. You're transferring your feelings for Riana to her. It's natural._

Right. Right. It probably was. But it still made him seethe with anger.

Spitting out a vile curse, Bishop sat up on his bed and started to pick up his clothes, which were scattered all over the room, hastily discarded in yesterday's frenzy. He slipped on his breeches, and fished one of his daggers out of his boots before putting it on.

The other dagger was not in the boot anymore. Frowning, he looked around the sparsely furnished room for it, the first dagger still in hand. It was your typical guest room, with just a bed, table, chair and a chest for clothes, but the Grey Serpent Inn had made a little effort at decoration by throwing a colourful rug on the wooden floor, and even hanging a painting at the wall – a very bad painting of a loving couple, wandering hand in hand through a highly unlikely depiction of some fairytale forest.

Suddenly, the image of himself and the girl, out in the woods hunting, the excitement making her face flush and her eyes sparkle brightly, flashed through his mind, and with a furious yell, he threw the dagger at the painting. It embedded itself right in the stupidly smiling face of the painted woman, quivering slightly.

_Get out of my mind, bitch!_

With two long, angry strides, he walked up to the painting and yanked the dagger out, shoving it down the shaft of his boot with a jerky motion.

"You'll pay for this, princess", he growled. "Count on it."

His movements still rigid with anger, he left the room, not bothering with the second dagger any longer.

xxx

Half an hour later, he sat in the taproom of the Grey Serpent Inn, not sparing the waitress a single glance as she put a large plate of bacon and eggs and a mug of hot coffee on his table.

The delicious, bitter smell of the coffee helped him relax a bit, and with a sigh, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

_Ah, coffee. One of the very few upsides of civilisation._

He took his mug and sipped carefully, his eyes still closed, savouring the taste. It was strong, bitter and scaldingly hot – just as it ought to be.

_That's something you just can't get in the woods. A properly brewed coffee. _

He sighed again, the smell and taste of the coffee doing a lot to help calm his mind, and put down his mug. Taking the fork, he started on the scrambled eggs, and had to admit they weren't half bad either.

_Fine, Bishop. Now that you're up to the task of thinking clearly, how do you want to proceed?_

He frowned and stared on his plate. He had only been around for a day, but he could already tell that it would not be easy to catch the princess alone. Obviously, either she or her parents were still worried enough to have a guard accompany her when she went outside.

_"I hope that my parents did not notice that I went out, Jackson. I had no idea that the ceremony would take so long, and I really don't want you to get into trouble for accompanying me."_

Her parents had not known she had gone out. Yet she took the guard with her.

Her own caution then. Bishop smiled grimly. Very clever, even if it was in vain. But if she was careful enough to take a guard with her even when she slipped out clandestinely, he could bury any hope of getting her alone while off the premises.

Not that the guard could stop him, but he would put up a fight, cause a commotion and a delay. The girl could run or scream, there would be witnesses, and even if Bishop dragged her off nonetheless, everyone would know immediately and start looking. He would not get the time to savour his revenge that way.

No. He had to catch her without anyone the wiser. So there would be some hours before anyone noticed she was gone and started looking. Hours in which he could have his fun, and be long gone before they found the body.

_Night. When she is supposedly sleeping. After her governess took her to bed. That way, they won't know she's gone before morning._

He took another sip of coffee, the thought bringing a smile to his face.

_Oh, I like that. Violate the sanctuary of her bedroom, right where she probably feels most secure. Shatter the illusion that there is any place on Faerun she would be safe from me._

_Oh yes. I like that._

But he could not have his revenge right there. She was bound to scream, and the rest of the household would hear, come running to spoil his fun. That would not do at all.

He had to get her out of there, drag her somewhere else, somewhere no one would hear her scream.

But where? He could not take her into the streets, someone would be bound to notice if he carried her around.

_The park._

Well. It certainly was huge, and at night, it would be deserted, and full of places to hide. The only one around would probably be his new friend, the watchdog, and Bishop was confident the animal would not try to interfere.

So, his best plan of action for today would be to get truly familiar with the layout of the park, so he would have no problems finding his way at night. And keep an eye open for a place he could use for what he had in mind. There was bound to be something, a toolshed or whatever. As long as it was far enough removed from the house that no one would hear her, it was all right.

If it was too close, he might have to gag her. And that would be a pity.

Because he really wanted to hear her scream.

xxx

Twenty minutes later, Bishop left the inn, whistling, his mood greatly improved now that he had a plan. Even his second dagger had turned up, for some reason stuck between the bed and the wall, and was now securely tucked into his boot.

It was a fine day, the sky blue with just a few fluffy clouds scattered about it, already so warm that Bishop had left his cloak behind. Early summer had been cold and rainy mostly, but maybe there would be a proper summer after all.

Bishop's first stop was the butcher's, where he bought a large marrow bone. Still whistling, he made his way through the City of the Dead, already quite busy on this beautiful morning. He inhaled the scent of grass and earth, the morning dew slowly dissolving under the warm rays of the sun, and felt his heart lift as the stink of the city was out of his nostrils for a few precious moments.

Coffee was nice, but he would be glad nonetheless as soon as he left. Cities just were not for him. And also, outside Karnwyr was waiting for him, and he already missed his companion and their solitary, peaceful evenings around a crackling campfire.

Bishop glanced at the paper wrapped package he was carrying.

_I'll have to get Karnwyr some of those before I leave – he'll love them for sure._

All too soon, he reached the northern gate and left the parklike cemetery behind, making his way through the comparatively broad streets of the North Ward, until the high wall that surrounded the princess' home loomed before him.

A careful glance around told him that he was alone, and with a smooth movement, he jumped up and pulled himself over. Landing deftly on his feet on the other side, he looked around and listened for possible footsteps, but the only thing he heard was the chirping of birds in the lush foliage around him.

He whistled, knowing that if instead of the dog, a human heard him and came looking, he could easily camouflage himself. But after a minute, he could hear something on four feet approach quickly, rustling through the bushes, and soon, the dog jumped out and stopped in front of him, hackling and furiously wagging what was left of its tail.

"That's civilisation for you", Bishop said as he crouched to pat the dog's head. "You were born with a perfectly good tail, but they have to go and cut it off. Same with your ears. Just because some moron thought it looks better that way. Bloody stupid, if you ask me. Someone should do it to them, see how they like it."

The dog yipped, its eyes fixed on the package in Bishop's other hand. Bishop grinned.

"Gave you my word, did I not? Enjoy. But don't show it to anyone, hear?"

He unwrapped the bone, handed it to the dog, and shoved the wrapping paper into his pockets. He would get rid of that later. Then he made his way further into the park, leaving behind a very happy dog, crunching a bone between impressive teeth.

xxx

Bishop spent the morning mostly getting acquainted with the park, moving about under the cover of his camouflage, and avoiding the flock of gardeners that were busy everywhere. It really was huge, so it took him some time until he was confident he could find his way around in the dark without hesitation. There were several sections – the artificial wilderness that surrounded the house, but also a flower garden with rows of roses, lush oleander and bougainvillea bushes in full bloom, beds of marguerites, violets and azaleas lining carefully kept paths of white gravel and stone benches for noble ladies who felt exhausted after walking a few steps. Bishop snorted and kept his exploration of that part of the park to a minimum.

There even was an orchard, quite beautiful, with old and gnarled apple, pear and peach trees growing amidst hazel and elder bushes. The bloom was already over, but the fruit on the trees still small and unripe at this time of the year. There was a shed here, the door locked with a large padlock, certainly housing gardening tools and the like. Bishop checked the lock and found that it would not withstand one or two solid blows. This might do for what he had in mind, but he decided to keep exploring until he found the best possible spot.

Farthest away from the house, the trees and bushes gave way to a trim lawn that descended to the shore of a sizable lake. A wooden shack at the edge of the water proved to be a boat house, home to two small rowboats, the oars carefully tucked into a rack on the side wall.

Well. This opened a couple of whole new possibilities, didn't it?

Leaving the shack, Bishop gazed over the surface of the water, glinting in the sun, to the opposite shore. He could make out a couple of shacks there, too. Probably similar boat houses, belonging to the estates that bordered the lake on the other side.

Very interesting. He would have to check that out. If he could take a boat from there, and carry the princess over the water to one of the other boat houses, no one would have a clue where she had gone – and he would have ample time to have his way with her, to his heart's content.

Smiling, Bishop turned back to the direction of the mansion. He would make sure he would be able to find the way from the house to the lake blindfolded. Because if the shacks on the other side of the lake proved to be of no use to him after close examination, the boat house here would be his best alternative.

He was just passing the orchard when voices reached his ears. Female voices. One of them very familiar. Freezing in his tracks, Bishop's head slowly turned as he stared into the direction the voices where coming from. Slowly and carefully, he stalked nearer, making use of the cover the ubiquitous bushes provided, concentrating hard on keeping up his camouflage.

If she discovered him now, all would be lost.

Without a sound, he crept into the hazel bushes at the edge of the orchard, and gently moved some twigs to the side to have a clear view.

And there she was.

Sitting on a wooden bench under the apple tree nearest to where Bishop was hiding, next to a nondiscript girl with brown hair and freckles on her face, wearing a chaste dress. The princess herself, Bishop noticed with a spark of amusement, wore pants.

_Don't tell me you've wisened up and grown tired of skirts finally?_

Both of the girls had a basket filled with flowers at their feet. The princess had a worried expression on her face, whereas the girl next to her seemed at the verge of tears. Bishop's curiosity was peaked, and he bent forward slightly, listening to the conversation.

"It must have been so horrible", the brown haired girl just said, nearly inaudible, shuddering visibly. "Out there in the hut, with these men."

Bishop's eyes snapped to the princess' face, to gauge her reaction.

_So she even tells that story to her friends. Wonder why. _

_Good to know, though._

The princess did not reply for a while, looking even more worried and unhappy as she stared into her friend's face. Strands of her long hair were stirred gently by a soft breeze of wind, and again Bishop caught himself wanting to run his fingers through the silky mass.

_Idiot. Will you ever learn?_

He gritted his teeth while he watched the girls, forcing himself to stay put.

_Not time yet. Don't rush in. She's not alone. You'll just spoil your fun. Patience. Patience._

With a sudden smile, the princess pressed the shoulder of her friend reassuringly.

"I am fine, Eve."

Bishop smiled grimly.

_That's what _you_ think, princess. Enjoy it while it lasts._

"Really?" The other girl reached for the princess' free hand. "I am your friend, you know? I cannot even imagine how this must have felt for you, being out there, all on your own. But… sometimes it helps to talk."

For a moment, the princess just stared at the brown haired girl, and Bishop could see indecision on her face.

_Open your mouth, mousie, and you will have to answer for your friend's death. If you tell her about me, she'll have to die._

His eyes narrowed to slits, Bishop watched as the princess opened and closed her mouth, obviously trying to come to a decision.

"I am fine", was all she said in the end, though, her voice strained.

The other girl seemed inclined to argue at first, but then just accepted it. She climbed the arm of the bench and started to pick some apples, handing them to the princess.

Lost in thoughts, Bishop watched, wondering fleetingly what in the world they wanted the tiny, green, inedible apples for.

_She wanted to tell that girl, I could see it on her face._

_So why didn't she?_

_Why has she told that lie in the first place?_

_Not that I'm complaining, mind..._

A familiar name caught his ear, and he started to listen again.

"...Cedric invited me to the _Nightsong_ this evening, and I still have preparations to make", the princess said, an excited flush on her face.

Cedric.

_Did you really think that I would welcome your touch, when I have a man like Cedric by my side?_

Bishop could barely repress the growl that rose in his throat.

_He's a fine man, noble and honourable, while you are… you are nothing but a common thug, crawling around in the dirt, not worthy to hold a candle to him. You are disgusting. You are scum!_

Her words were burned into his memory, those cruel words, the words that Riana probably had been thinking as well, but had been too kind, or too clever, to speak out loud.

_And to think that I had been ready to let her live. Ready to... Gods, what a fool I have been._

He stared down on his hands, balled into fists, and fought down the fury that burned in his stomach, threatening to burn away his self restraint, fought to stay in control, not to jump forward and make her choke on the words that kept echoing in his mind.

_Don't. She'll pay for it, together with the rest. When the time is right._

A shout roused him from his thoughts, and he looked up.

"Oi!", the brown-haired girl called loudly, pointing after some apples that were rolling over the ground, away from the tree. "They try to escape."

Unbelieving, Bishop watched the blasted fruits roll over the grass, coming to a halt right before the bushes he was hiding in.

_Oh, you've got to be kidding me!_

Keeping stock still, not even daring to breathe, he froze in the bushes as the princess rushed over, to pick up the errant apples, a grin on her face. Her wonderful hair trailed behind her, and fell around her face in wild tangles when she bent down, less than an arm's reach away from him.

_Stay calm, keep up your camouflage, and she won't see you. Just stay calm._

Easier said then done, when she was so near he would just have to reach out to grab her.

And when her sweet scent rose into his nostrils, making him want to close his eyes and inhale deeply.

_Are you insane? You hate her guts, remember?_

"Got them!", the princess called exactly that moment, and jumped up, turning back to her friend. But suddenly she whirled around again, staring about wildly, her eyes wide suddenly, and colour creeping into her cheeks. Bishop could see her pulse beating fast on her neck.

_She knows I'm here!_

_How?_

_Don't move!_

Holding his breath, Bishop's eyes were glued on her face, and wondered what he saw there.

"Lily?", the brown-haired girl's voice suddenly broke the spell, as she suddenly appeared next to the princess.

Bishop cursed inwardly. He had been so entranced, staring into the princess' face, that he had not even noticed the other girl approaching.

_Damn you, get a grip! If you continue to slip like this, you can bury your beautiful plans for vengeance, and just turn yourself in to the militia, because sooner or later they'll bust your ass anyway._

The princess flinched and cast her friend a false smile as she put the apples into one of the baskets.

"I got them", she said, her voice high and unnatural. Then she just turned around and walked back into the direction of the house, her movements unusually jerky. With a worried expression, the other girl followed her.

Exhaling slowly, Bishop stared after them, relieved that they were walking away, but a frown on his face, trying to understand what just had happened.

_Has she seen me? She was so close..._

_Have you seen her face? What was that?_

_She can't have seen me. If she had known I was there, she would have panicked... and that was no fear on her face._

_She looked... flustered. And maybe shocked._

_But not afraid. Not afraid. Rather... stunned?_

Bewildered, he got to his feet and followed the two girls, carefully keeping out of sight. The princess was walking briskly, obviously still thrown, as if she tried to avoid talking to her friend about what had happened.

As they neared the terrace at the back of the mansion, Bishop positioned himself in a cluster of bushes and watched them approach the stairs. Suddenly, the watch dog jumped out on the path from the bushes opposite, and stopped before him, looking up, wagging his tail.

Bishop crouched down and made a hushing noise.

"Hey, don't give me away now, chap", he murmured in a low voice. "Bad timing you have there."

The dog sniffed, probably checking if he had any more goodies with him, still wagging its tail. At least he was not barking, or hopping around.

Looking up, Bishop saw the princess stop on the stairs to glance back, scanning the park, obviously still quite alarmed. Her eyes found the dog and lingered for a moment, but then passed them without noticing anything amiss.

Then, with a jolt, she turned away to follow the other girl into the house.

xxx

After the girls had disappeared into the house, Bishop decided to do a bit more exploration. He was positive he would be able to find his way around the park even by night, but there was still the matter of deciding where to take the princess once he had gotten hold of her. Resolutely, he tried to put her strange behaviour out of his mind. No use in brooding over riddles he was unlikely to solve. But still, it left him uneasy. He did not think she really had known he was there. She would have been afraid, had she known, wouldn't she...? But still, she must have sensed... something. And that was quite a worrying thought.

_Just because it means you can't rely on your camouflage to hide from her. You can't risk her noticing you before you've gotten hold of her._

Right.

He shoved those thoughts away. Now was the time to concentrate on things he could solve. Like finding the right place for what he had in mind. Taking a deep breath, he turned from the house, back to the lake, starting his way along the shore.

The boat houses on the other side of the lake seemed most promising. By boat, he would be able to get there fairly quickly, and without the risk of encountering anyone. Not likely to meet someone rowing around on the lake at night. Whereas taking her through the streets was out of the question. And if someone noticed the girl was missing, they would search their own park first, so staying there somewhere did not seem safe.

One of the boat houses around the lake would be perfect for what he had in mind, though. He would check them out, see if one of them suited the purpose.

Keeping up his camouflage, he made his way along the shore, wandering from park to park, from estate to estate. It was ridiculously easy. Obviously, rich people mostly guarded against the outside world, but not against each other. Often, there were just a few hedges to mark the border between estates, and even if there was a fence, it was low and no real obstacle. And the one time he indeed came up against a wall – maybe these neighbours were not too fond of each other – it could be climbed easily. Not once did he even have to step into the water to cross.

There were several boat houses on his way. Rowing on the lake seemed to be popular amongst the rich and beautiful who resided here. But only after a good hour's walk did he find the perfect place he was looking for.

It was not exactly on the opposite side of the lake from the princess' residence, but still far enough, so it was not likely to be searched quickly once they realized the princess was gone. It looked a bit ramshackle, and it was obvious that it was not in use anymore. The wood was weathered and splintered, and the paint was peeling. Also, the park had a neglected look, the grass high, the bushes sprawling wildly without trimming, and weeds everywhere.

Making his way to what came closest to true wilderness since he had entered the city, Bishop neared a large, slightly sinister looking mansion. It seemed as deserted as the rest of the estate, the once bright white walls dissolved into a dirty grey, and the shutters with the chipped blue paint closed on every window. Lichen, moss and ivy had started to grow over the walls. Nothing could be heard besides birds twittering in the trees and bushes, and the humming of insects.

For a moment, Bishop contemplated using the mansion instead of the boat house, but decided against it in the end. First, entering would leave traces. Second, he could see the walls of the mansion belonging to the next estate in the distance. At night, someone might see lights and wonder. Too risky. Plus, he would have to drag the princess all the way from the boat house to here, and she might raise alarm.

Besides, once he crossed the lake, he'd be eager to start. Why wait longer than he absolutely had to?

So the boat house it would be. Smiling, Bishop turned back to the edge of the water, and carefully inspected it from the outside. Run-down as it was, it still seemed sturdy enough not to fall down on his head in the middle of things and spoil his revenge. He gave the wood a few solid kicks and was pleased to find that it gave a satisfying, dull thud, without shaking or splintering in the slightest. He went out onto the wooden walkway that reached into the gently lapping waters of the lake, and jumped up and down, finding that, too, still in good condition.

Yep. This would be perfect.

He checked the door and frowned when he saw it was padlocked. That was inconvenient, if not unexpected. Opening the door by force would be noisy, and risk drawing attention.

Cursing quietly, he pulled out one of the daggers out of his boots and knelt down before the door. Still frowning, he took the padlock, and turned it in his hands, studying it intently. It was dirty, tarnished and seemed like a cheap affair.

That would be a good thing, because opening locks was definitely not his strong side. For a very simple lock, he might get lucky, though.

A crease of concentration between his brows, Bishop inserted the tip of his dagger and started fiddling inside the lock. Again and again, he slipped, his clumsy efforts not being helped by the fact that the lock seemed to have corroded inside. Growling with frustration, he kept trying, carefully at first, but as his impatience grew, more and more with brute force. It seemed like hours to him, and more than once he had to restrain himself from just jumping up and kicking the door in, noise be damned, when, wonders over wonders, the lock clicked and jumped open.

For a moment, he stared at it, not believing his luck, and grinned broadly. It was obvious that this lock would never be used again, scraped and dented as it was after the rough treatment. A rueful glance at his poor dagger told him that it also was a bit worse for wear and would need a good polish and some sharpening. But the lock was open, and that was all that counted.

Bishop checked the position of the sun and decided it was late afternoon already. Seemed like it _had_ taken him hours to pry the blasted lock open. Shrugging, he opened the door to the boat house and peered inside.

A bout of stale air hit his nose when he entered, smelling of moisture, mould, rot and animal droppings. Something skittered away in the twilight, which seemed nearly impenetrable to his eyes after the bright sun outside. A small bird took panicked flight and vanished through one of the narrow windows.

Bishop hesitated for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light. Slowly, he could make out a large bulk on the far side of the boat house, carefully wrapped in canvas. The canvas itself was dirty, full of of dust and bird shit, but it still seemed intact.

Grinning, and not believing his luck, Bishop approached to examine the object more closely. As expected, it was boat-shaped. He removed the canvas, coughing once or twice as he inhaled the acrid dust covering the fabric. It indeed hid a rowing boat, oars inside. Thanks to the careful wrapping, the boat looked in perfect condition, despite the fact that obviously, the boathouse had not been used for some years.

_This is just great. I won't even have to take one of their boats, which might have caused them to look around the lake, if they noticed it was missing._

_Watch out, princess. Seems like the stars are on my side this time._

xxx

Later, just as the early summer sun was approaching the horizon, Bishop was making his way through the park back to the mansion of the princess. He had put the boat into the water, wanting to make sure there was no leak, and then tied it to the small pier attached to the boat house. Everything seemed fine, but if it still was afloat tomorrow, then he could be certain there would be no nasty surprises while rowing across the lake.

Camouflaged in the bushes, he approached the house, keeping his eyes open for anyone who might move around. You never knew – inside the park, he might even encounter the princess alone. And if he did – well, it would be rushing things slighty, as his preparations were not complete yet, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If he got her alone, she would be his.

But when he finally heard a voice as he neared the entrance to the estate, it was a male one.

"Please, would you tell Mister Damian de Lavrans that I have urgent business to discuss with him?", the voice said in a respectful tone.

Bishop peered through the last of the bushes, and saw a young man, maybe in his mid twenties, standing in front of the door, facing the formidable female that Bishop had identified as the princess' gouverness the day before. The visitor wore the uniform of the Waterdhavian militia, and it was obvious from his face that he did not expect the visit to be a pleasant one.

A grin flitted over Bishop's face. He had an inkling what kind of message the good officer might be carrying. It probably would be a nasty surprise for Mister Damian de Lavrans indeed.

The halfelf, her brown hair in the same severe bun as the day before and wearing a similar somber dress, gave a haughty nod and stepped back.

"If you would care to wait in the hall for a moment, I will see if the young master is available", she answered coolly, if politely.

_Well, young master, guess this is a good time for you to seriously start worrying about your own health._

With a thin smile, Bishop was about to turn back to do another quick sweep of the park when the noise of cartwheels reached his ear. He hesitated, then turned back to watch a bit more. Soon, he heard the large wrought iron gates being opened, and the sound of two horses' shot hooves and the wheels of a carriage crunching over gravel approached. Then the carriage itself came into view.

It was a splendid affair, all gleaming polished wood and dark leather, with a closed roof and bright red wheels, pulled by a pair of well-matched bays. It approached at a sedate pace, and was stopped by the sturdy fellow on the box just in front of the entrance to the mansion.

The door of the coach openened, and a dark haired young man, wearing a dark blue coat over a light blue vest with silver embroidery, stepped outside.

"Hold them for a moment, James", he adressed the driver. "I will see if Miss de Lavrans is ready to leave."

Bishop silently gnashed his teeth as he watched the fellow approach the door and knock.

_She will perform in the Nightsong tonight. The theatre has been booked out for weeks. Rhiannon told me that Jeanne tried to get a table herself, already a while ago. How Cedric managed to get one, I do not know, but she was highly displeased as she found out._

_Coming to pick her up, are you? Well, enjoy yourselves. It's probably the last time._

This time, not the gouverness but a maid opened the door. Bishop could see Cedric talk to her, and she curtsied and replied something. Cedric smiled at her, and the girl blushed furiously and retreated, looking somewhat flustered.

Slightly resentful, Bishop watched her vanish into the house, while Cedric came back and started a quiet conversation with his driver.

_He's as boring as the day is long! Why on Fearun do females all get so flustered over him? It's bloody stupid, that's what it is!_

He watched the closed door with a frown on his face, waiting for the princess to appear so that her fairy tale prince could take her away, when he heard a by now familiar sound approaching, and a nose poked his knees from behind.

"Really, really bad timing", he said in a low voice, looking down at the dog, but could not help but grin at the furiously wagging animal. "Yes, you're a good boy. Now, sit! Don't give me away."

Obediently, the dog sat down at his side and merely looked up at him adoringly, hackling slightly.

Bishop's gaze returned to the mansion door just in time to see it opening, and the princess stepping through. She wore a rather magnificent dress, red with embroidery, and gold glittering here and there. Her hair – her wonderful hair – was tied up partly in a loose bun on her head, partly allowed to fall down around her face in lively curls. She had done something with her eyes. Even from the distance they looked larger, deeper, more mysterious.

She took his breath away, and he could do nothing but stare, stunned, his surroundings forgotten, as she slowly walked down the stone steps, and did a small pirouette when she reached the landing, a provokative smile on her face, casting an impish look at... Cedric.

"And?", she asked, her voice light and melodious. "Are you satisfied?"

Having completely forgotten about the other's presence, Bishop flinched as Cedric now stepped forward, taking one of her hands, kissing it, then reached up to stroke her cheek. Bishop gritted his teeth as he fought the impulse to jump forward, to grab her and throttle her, until that satisfied smile she wore slipped from her face.

_Keep it together! Not long, then you'll get all the revenge you want._

"You look so lovely", Cedric said, goofy grin on his face.

"Even with the curls?", she asked, batting her eyelids coquettishly.

"I love you", Cedric replied, sappy grin still in place. "And your curls."

Revolted by this cheesy display, Bishop watched as Cedric's hand reached out. Suddenly, a hot wave of fury rose in him.

_Don't you touch... don't you dare touch..._

Unaware of the amber eyes burning with hatred that were fixed on his every movement, Cedric took one of the curls and pressed it to his lips.

A low, menacing growl rose in Bishop's chest and escaped through his clenched teeth, as his fingers had already found and closed around the hilts of the daggers hidden in his boots. He only came to his senses as an echoing growl, no less vicious, reached his ears, together with the sound of gravel being flung about, as the dog darted past him, onto the drive... towards Cedric and the girl.

Still growling wildly, it jumped and snapped at Cedric's arm. The girl, though, shock and disbelief written all over her suddenly pale face, reacted astonishingly fast, grabbing the dog's collar in mid-jump, trying to pull him off. Cedric himself jumped back, startled, so the impressive teeth caught nothing but a bit of expensive fabric.

Bishop could not help but grin at the dismay on the other man's face as he stared at the still frantic dog. The girl, however, pulled the animal back sharply, her other hand pushing him down. "Stop, Brutus, stop!", she yelled sharply. "Bad dog! Sit. Sit!"

And indeed, the dog sat down, suddenly completely docile, whining as if wondering if it had done something wrong. Bishop could not help but to feel a bit bad for the animal, while at the same time deciding to bring it another big bone. Attacking Cedric? Priceless. Only the poor dog would probably be in for a world of trouble for it. Because he had picked up Bishop's mood and tried to help his newfound friend. It hardly seemed fair, but there was nothing he could do about that short of walking out of the bushes to explain. Which was out of the question for very obvious reasons.

Before him, the driver came rushing around the carriage, worried for his master, and they started fussing over precious Cedric, who acted like the hero of a cheap drama, all brave smiles.

"Yes, James, everything is under control", he assured his man, turning his bashful smile on the girl. "Miss de Lavrans handled the situation exemplary."

Bishop just wanted to puke. A shame the dog had simply ripped the sleeve - a bit of pain would do the glib bastard a lot of good. On the other hand, he had to agree with the words, albeit grudgingly. The girl _had _handled the situation admirably, no denying that. She really had a way with animals. Even Karnwyr had liked her, and after losing her initial fear, she had treated the fearsome wolf as if he was just another cute puppy. And with her, he had been, much to Bishop's dismay. Astounding, really.

When the gatekeeper arrived to help with the general fussing, Bishop quietly turned to leave. He really did not want to watch dear Cedric smiling bravely any longer.

All in all, a fun episode, though.

Shame only they would punish the poor dog for it.

After all, it probably had saved Bishop from doing something really stupid. Again.

xxx

Taking long strides, Bishop marched back to the Grey Serpent Inn. He intended to spend the evening there, in his room, getting really, really drunk. After the bit of amusement over seeing dear Cedric being jumped by a furious dog had waned, only exasperation had been left behind. He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.

_What's the matter with me? I nearly lost it again. If the dog had not been there..._

_It's her fault! All her fault! She's driving me crazy! Looking like _her_... _acting_ like her! Making me fall for her, then casting me aside like a piece of garbage... playing me for a fool..._

_The sooner she dies, the better. Until then, I just have to keep it together somehow!_

Back in the inn, Bishop made his way through the taproom, ruthlessly shoving aside whoever stood in his way, ignoring the angry shouts and mutterings behind him, hoping halfway that someone would have enough guts to pick a fight with him. The only thing better than getting totally shitfaced now would be to break a couple of bones and bash in some heads.

But it seemed like his posture and expression was enough of a deterrant, and except for some half-assed insults, no one dared to stand up to him. Slightly disappointed, he resigned himself to buying some bottles to take up to his room, when a flash of white caught his eye.

There, at the counter, stood the whore he had met yesterday, snuggled up against some fellow with lanky blonde curls, whispering into his ear.

His eyes narrowed as he watched for a moment.

She flicked her long hair over her shoulder as she smiled at her customer, and the sight seemed to send another bolt into his heart.

So similar. Not the same. But so similar...

Without thinking, Bishop walked over and grabbed the woman's shoulder. She whirled around, and her eyes narrowed when she recognised his face.

"What is it?", she asked, curtly. "I'm busy, as you can see."

Bishop stared into her worn, painted face. "Twenty", he said abruptly.

Her eyes narrowed even more, then she shrugged and turned back to her customer. "Sorry, man, I've got a better offer", she said. "Another time, maybe." With that, she hooked her arm through Bishop's.

"Same deal as last time?", she asked.

He nodded and started towards the stairs, without looking down at her. "Same deal."

He could feel her shake her head. "It's none of my business, sweetheart, but did anyone ever tell you you've got a problem?"


	8. Different Roads

___Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

___And on a personal note:_

___Dear Anonymous Reviewer,_

___First: Wow! You've read about 30 chapters of a story that you claim to love, and this is the first and only thing you have to say? Colour us stunned._

___Second: Thanks! We are writing a story in a language foreign to us, and this is the only thing you find to pick at? Yay us! :D_

___Third: We've got nothing against concrit. We have received our share over time, and that's fine - there's always room to improve, after all. That said, we both thought your tone pretty rude, and concrit looks quite different. Which makes us disinclined to aquiesce to your request. Means no. In German, it's done the way we did it in the story, and we both were not aware that in English, it's done the other way round. Well, we've learned something new, which is great - but still, to our German eyes, it looks better the way it is. Somehow, you seem to have pushed our stubborn button._

___Fourth: I realise now why so many authors have disabled anonymous reviews. I have done it now, too..._

___

* * *

_

_She was sitting in her room with Jeanne and Evelyn, playing chess._

_A soft wind blew the curtains at the window, and Liliana could hear the rushing of the waves against the rocks from far below as she studied the black and white figures before her, her brows furrowed in concentration._

_Evelyn was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her gaze wandering from her two friends to the board and back again, looking nervous… and Liliana knew exactly why. She and Jeanne had been playing for hours, and unfortunately, it did not go well for her._

_Said girl was sitting on a pouffe like a queen, rigid as always, the fine jewelry on her fingers glittering in the light of the setting sun as she studied the board intently before she lifted a small, delicate hand to move her knight, its black mane blowing softly in the breeze._

"_Your turn," Jeanne stated, a cruel smile playing around the corners of her mouth, her voice sounding sickeningly smug. Liliana frowned and leaned forward, studying the various figures, trying to find the best move, but something was nagging at her, a sound that seemed to drift with the wind, barely distinguishable above the rushing of the waves, but it distracted her nonetheless. _

"_Beware of the bishop," Evelyn whispered quietly into her ear as Jeanne turned away for a moment to reach for an apple from one of the fruit baskets, her voice very serious as she met Liliana's questioning gaze._

"_If you're not careful, he will take your queen."_

_Liliana's gaze returned to the board, and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw that Evelyn was right._

Bishop?

_The sound in the wind suddenly grew louder, a faint whisper, still barely audible, but its words had an irresistible timbre as they reached her ear._

… follow me… find me… follow me…

"_Where are you going?", Jeanne demanded indignantly as Liliana suddenly got to her feet, her simple white nightgown playing around her feet as she walked towards her balcony. "It is your turn."_

"_I am sorry," she replied as she turned at the door, casting a last glance back at her two friends, the one's eyes forming two angry slits, the other's wide and fearful. "But it is calling me."_

_And with that, she stepped out onto the balcony and into the last light of the sun. _

_There was a forest surrounding the house. A stair was forming as soon as she reached the balustrade, and she followed the stone steps down into the woods, a small path opening before her as she searched her way between the old trees, the whisper in the wind still leading the way… and her heart was beating a bit faster as she pondered what she might meet at its end._

_Finally, the path opened onto a clearing, and Liliana frowned as she recognised the large four-poster bed that stood in its centre, its curtains blowing softly in the mild breeze._

But… this is my bed…

_A howling echoed through the woods, a sound so cold and twisted that it could not be coming from any earthly throat, and Liliana felt the blood in her veins run cold when she finally remembered where she had seen this clearing before._

The dream! The hounds!

_She could see them now, their eyes glowing red in the shadows between the trees, and just like before, she could do nothing but run, her bare feet leaving almost no sound as she jumped over ivy and fern, the wild hunt hard on her heels._

_The farther she ran, the rockier the ground seemed to become, with large steles towering over her left and right, and just in the moment when Liliana feared that she just could not go on, her legs and chest hurting with exertion, a hand shot out of a passageway that the water of a small brook had washed into the stone, and she was dragged forcefully into the shadows, a second hand closing firmly over her mouth to prevent her from screaming._

"_Quiet," hissed a deep voice right beside her ear, and Liliana's heart made a forceful leap as she recognised Bishop's voice. One hand still clasped tightly across her mouth, his other arm circled her own arms and waist to press her effectively against his chest and drag her deeper into the shadows, away from the woods and the light._

_For a moment, the forest grew still, with only the wind in the trees and the sounds of running water disturbing the silence. Then there was the rustling of leaves and the wild hunt ran past, a whirl of dark shadows with glowing eyes, snapping and hackling as they passed the passageway._

_Liliana felt her breath catch in her throat with fear, but Bishop squeezed her warningly and so she fought hard to remain calm and silent, not knowing what made her heart beat faster – her fear of the hounds, or their unexpected encounter._

_But as soon as it had appeared, the hunt was gone and the forest grew silent once more. Bishop finally released her, and she took a hesitant step backwards, shivering in the cool damp air of the passageway, and the expression on his dimly lit face did nothing to slow the beat of her heart._

"_Well, well," Bishop smiled as he watched her careful retreat, but it was an ugly smile that did nothing to soften the hard glare of his eyes, making her feel colder still. __"Look who I found."_

"_You owe me, mousie, don't you?" His fingers were a feather-light touch on her throat while she stared, horrified, his soft voice sending more shivers of dread down her spine. "You owe me for all the little games you've played, and now it's time to collect the debt."_

_Panic gripped her, panic at the knowledge that he had hunted her down for no other reason but to end her life, knowing that there was nothing she could do to escape him. But in this very moment, as they stared at each other and Liliana waited for him to draw one of his weapons or simply grab her throat, another feeling mingled with her fear – an almost desperate urge to make him understand here, at the end of all things, that she did feel remorse and regret for every single game she had played._

"_I'm so sorry."_

_The words had barely left her mouth when she saw Bishop's face contort with rage, and with a growl, her grabbed her hair to pull her near while his other hand closed painfully around her throat, his eyes burning._

"_Sorry?" he hissed, his grip in her hair tightening, and she moaned, his face now a bit blurred from the tears that welled up in her eyes, partly from fear, partly from pain. "You really think that sorry is gonna cut it, princess?"_

"_I'm sorry," she gulped, her voice trembling. "I did not mean for these things to happen. I did not mean to hurt you."_

_She stared up into his burning eyes, her own wide and fearful, waiting for the hand around her throat to snap her neck, already dreading the pain that would symbolise the end of her life._

"_I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears streaming silently down her cheeks._

_With a snarl, he pushed her back against the stony wall of the passageway, the rock rough against her back while her nightgown was soaked immediately with water from the small rill that trickled down the wall. _

_She could feel his hands tightening around her hair and throat, but then he was upon her, and there was just a tiny moment in which her mind registered that he was not so much snapping her neck but kissing her, fiercely, almost crushing her between the stone and his own body._

_Then there was only the feeling of his lips on hers, of stubble chafing over skin, and just like before, his kiss ignited a burning desire in her blood, pulsating strongly between her legs and spreading through her limbs like wildfire, and she moaned as her arms circled his neck, letting herself drown in his kiss._

_With an answering moan, Bishop let go of her hair and throat and grabbed her buttocks to lift her up, and out of an instinct, she followed his lead, closing her legs firmly around his hips, the sensation of his rough hands on her cool skin, separated through nothing but a thin layer of cloth, making a sigh escape her throat._

_His hands ripped at the cloth of her nightgown, pushing it up right to her hips, and she moaned at the feeling of his calloused hands wandering over her bare skin and up to her hip, the moan turning into a yelp when Bishop bit sharply into her neck in the very moment he pushed hard between her legs to enter her, a moan of his own escaping him as he inched deeper and deeper._

_Then he began to move inside her, his thrusts hard and angry as if he wanted to punish her, but even though her back was scraping painfully against the rough stonewall with his every move, the pain was quickly forgotten as she lost herself in the sensation of his touch, the flames of her own desire finally consuming her._

"_You cannot hide from me, mousie," he murmured into her ear between his thrusts, his voice barely recognisable because it was so rough. "I will find you, no matter where you go. And then you will pay."_

_The flames were spreading, leaving her body tingling in their wake, building up a tension inside her that ached to be relieved, making it hard for her to concentrate on his words, and so she just clung to him, her head thrown back, meeting his thrusts as her voice pleaded with him to stake the flames even higher._

"_Oh… Bishop, please… please…"_

"_Lily?"_

_A new voice could be heard, deep and cultured, and at the oh-so familiar sound, Liliana looked up, her eyes wide with shock as she recognised the young man standing only a few paces away, his dark hair softly blowing in the breeze, watching her coupling with a strange look in his brown eyes…_

_And with a start, she woke up._

xxx

Liliana sat up with a small yelp, blankets pressed tightly against her chest, her heart beating like a drum while her eyes darted through the room, her breathing heavy.

The sun seemed to have merely risen above the horizon, for her room was still filled with the gloomy half-dark of dawn, turning the desks and chairs and cupboards surrounding her bed into barely more than dark, blurry shapes still cloaked in shadow.

Her nightgown and sheets were soaked with sweat, leaving her shivering in the cool morning air as something close to panic gripped her heart, the images that her dream had brought up awakening something almost like agony inside her chest.

_Merciful gods…_

With a swift motion, she hopped out of her bed and hurried across the room, her feet leaving no sound on the lush carpet on the floor, her eyes fixed on the door that was worked skillfully into the wall to match her tapestry and leading to the small bathroom that belonged to her suite.

Inside, she reached for the jug beside the door to pour water into the delicate porcelain basin standing on a small marble pedestal right under a large mirror. Her hands were shaking so badly that a huge amount of water splashed over the rim and onto the floor, but she barely noticed as she hastily put the jar back onto the ground and then frantically began to wash herself, scrubbing away at her arms and face until her skin began to prickle uncomfortably with the rough treatment.

_Oh gods…_

Images were swirling in her mind, images of that last fateful night in the hut, mingling with her dream, and the memory of how he had come after her that night, how frightened she had been, and how she had clung to him in the dreamshadows of the passageway this time, even begging him to take her… it made her feel befouled, dirty, and so she scrubbed even harder until she finally sat down on the rim of her bathtub, breathing heavily, her cheeks burning and her knuckles white because she gripped the polished metal of the rim so tightly.

_Breathe, Liliana. Relax. It was just a dream. Just a dream._

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her cheeks two red spots in a very pale face, her hair in disorder even despite the braid as if she had tossed and turned in her sleep, and found it very hard to fight the flood of embarrassment and shame that welled up inside her, found it almost impossible to watch her face and not to feel betrayed, not if her mind was playing her such nasty tricks.

_How could you_, she asked the woman in the mirror, who at least looked sufficiently guilty and ashamed of herself, _how could you do this to me? _

_Why? Why him? Why do you keep dreaming of him? _

Her reflection looked even more ashamed at that thought, an apologetic look on her face, and Liliana averted her gaze, misery draping around her shoulders like a cloak. To think that a part of her truly seemed to want to see him again - no matter how stupid the notion, how pathetic the thought - to tell him that she was sorry, that she had meant no harm, that she regretted some of her actions…

_But it's a bit difficult to argue this time that you don't want any of his kisses in return, Liliana, don't you think?_

The voice in her head sounded unbearably smug, and Liliana felt her shame increase a thousandfold as she remembered the feeling of his dreamlips on hers, and how he had pushed her against the wall of the passageway, of his moan as he did so…

_I don't want _his_ kisses_, she glared at the woman in the mirror, her eyes narrowed to slits as sudden anger mingled with her embarrassment, daring her reflection to speak up again, _I just want to be kissed_.

That was such a sad truth that she simply wanted to throw her head back in frustration and bang it hard against the wall, the sinking feeling resettling in her belly as the last evening passed in review in front of her inner eye.

Oh, it had been a wonderful time, no doubt.

They had talked, and laughed, and enjoyed their exquisite meal while listening to Deliah's outstanding performance in the soft light of the chandeliers, and Cedric had held her hand and kissed her cheek, admiration and love shining in his beautiful eyes… but nothing more.

On their way to the _Nightsong_, she had waited for him to come to her. Driving in a closed carriage had seemed like a good place to steal a kiss from her lips in secret, but Cedric had still been stunned about Brutus' sudden attack, and so they simply had made fun about his torn jacket, all thoughts about kissing momentarily forgotten.

And why not? The evening had still been young, and kissing was even more romantic in the light of the moon, after all… or in the shadowy ballroom of their destination.

But as the evening went on, and he still did do nothing but gently hold her hand or caress her cheek…

So on their way back to the mansion, she had been more insistent, the need to have him kiss her like he did on that day of her return, to have him hold her in his arms almost overwhelming, and so she had done all but to sit down on his lap, sending him all the signals she could think of that she wanted a real kiss…

But obviously her signals had been too subtle, because Cedric had simply pulled her head against his chest to hold her tight, whispering words of love and comfort into her hair. It had felt good to lie there, in his arms, his beloved voice so very soothing… but after her dream it was obvious now that she _really _needed a kiss.

_See_, she told the woman in the mirror, her chin lifted challengingly while something close to relief thawed the sinking feeling in her belly, _it has nothing to do with Bishop after all. My sheepish wish to apologize to him mingled with my wish for Cedric to… kiss me, that's all. It is embarrassing, of course, but no need to sound so smug. _

_I don't want him, and I certainly don't want to see him ever again._

_And once Cedric and I have… kissed again, these dreams will stop. You will see._

Maybe she had been a little too subtle, after all. The next time, she could just tell him, and then there would be no misunderstanding.

The thought that they were meeting again this very evening at the barbecue, and that a beautiful and labyrinthine garden belonged to the Silverton mansion, a garden were a couple could easily get some privacy from prying eyes, brought a small smile to her face, and so she finally got up, doing her best to bury the memories of her dream in the same dark region of her mind where she had locked away all the memories of the hut, her hand reaching resolutely for the brush to get ready for just another day.

_I am thinking too much about Bishop. Reading these books, mulling about him all the time… no wonder he still haunts me._

But this would change, from now on. She would return the book to the Archives today, get rid of the carving, and would move on. It was time to go back to her old life, to leave this dark spot of her past behind, and by the gods, she would!

They would never meet again, after all, so why should she carry that wish to apologize with her for the rest of her life? And for what? For staying alive?

_Ridiculous._

There was still that small voice in her head, whispering softly into her ear that Bishop was not the only problem here, that he had been hired to kill her, but Liliana quickly silenced that voice as she began to roughly comb her hair.

_It doesn't matter. It didn't work, and Cedric and I will be married in less than three months. It doesn't matter._

Jeanne's image suddenly came to mind, and the dark looks that she had given her yesterday during their meeting, but Liliana did her best to ignore that memory as well.

_I will be careful. Not leaving the house alone, no more wandering about… and once we are married, it will all be over. No need to worry._

She watched her face in the mirror as she tried to undo the various knots in her hair with her fingers, and couldn't help but to wish that her expression would match the confident tone of her voice just a little bit better.

When she finally stepped out of the bathroom, Liliana was surprised to see Nerdanel up and about as well, the governess already pulling back the curtains of the windows to let in more of the cool morning air.

"Good morning, child," she said in her solemn voice, but strangely enough, the smile on her face did not meet her eyes. "Did you have a nice evening?"

"Yes, thank you," Liliana replied as she slowly crossed the room, stifling a yawn behind her hand. "It was so lovely. The music was fantastic, and Deliah even came over to sit down at our table for a while after her singing was done. Cedric was very impressed."

She imagined Jeanne's face at that news and couldn't help but to grin. Oh, it would be so wonderful to rub that in.

"She invited me to come over and visit her and Korban for tea. Deliah, that is." She paused. "I was thinking to visit them this afternoon, you know? I never thanked them properly for bringing me back to the city, so I would really like to see them and show my gratitude."

Nerdanel did not reply, just watched her with that strange expression on her face, and Liliana gulped as a cold knot settled in her belly, twisting her innards painfully. Something was not right, she could see.

She suddenly remembered that image of young officer Coulter, standing in the great hall and talking to her father and Damian with that unusually serious expression on his face, and the faintest hint of alarm echoed in her voice as she asked:

"What is it?"

_Did they find out that I have been lying? Will they tell Cedric what I've done?_

But Nerdanel just sighed.

"I think it is best we both sit down."

xxx

The Trades Ward was truly crowded at this time of day. The Way of the Dragon was filled with people, all going about their business, the street vibrating with the sounds of their talking and shouting, their voices echoing from the walls of the high buildings that surrounded them.

Liliana slowly searched her way through the masses with Jackson right behind her, one hand again on the hilt of his sword, keeping a sharp eye on the crowd. To her, they just meant nothing. Once more, it felt like she was walking in a daze, and so she was completely oblivious to her surroundings until she walked right into an elderly woman carrying a basket full of apples, the force of their impact sending a large amount of the small fruits flying onto the street. The woman watched the apples roll away with an expression of utmost disbelief on her wrinkled face, an expression that quickly changed to bad temper when she focused her bleary eyes on Liliana.

"Can ye not keep an eye open where ye're goin', missy?" the old lady snarled with a heavy accent, her eyes shooting daggers at Liliana as she knelt to pick up her load.

"Oh gods, I'm so sorry," Liliana replied meekly and hurriedly knelt at the woman's side to help her gather the fruits, the old lady casting her suspicious glances from beneath her heavily lidded eyes, just as if she was expecting her to try and steal some.

_Well done, Liliana, well done. Could you not at least have kept _one_ eye on the road?_

…

_I suppose I could have. It's just… I simply cannot believe he's dead._

Greyburgh dead. That was the news that young officer Coulter had carried, and no wonder his face had looked so stricken. Murder, Nerdanel had said. Someone seemed to have climbed into his apartment through the window, and had killed the man when he had come home after work.

Robbery, or so the watch suspected. They were questioning the neighbours now, and hoped to get to the bottom of this plot very quickly and to deliver the men responsible for this horrible crime to Tyr's High Justice.

Still, it was hard not to feel uneasy at the thought of Greyburgh being killed, just so shortly after all the things that had happened to her. It felt as if a dark cloud was gathering just at the horizon, growing darker and darker while creeping silently closer, and Liliana feared that if the storm finally broke loose, the world would never be the same again.

Even now, she felt a strange prickling wander down her spine, as if someone was breathing down her neck, watching her, and so she turned for a moment to cast a sharp look over her shoulder, but the street was bustling with life, and no one paid them even the least bit of attention.

_Just imagining things, that's all._

"I'm sorry," she said once more when she finally handed the lady the last of her apples, both of them getting back onto their feet. The woman cast her a last withering stare and then simply vanished down the road without another word, clutching the basket with apples tightly against her chest.

"Charming old lady," Jackson murmured quietly beneath his breath, a frown on his face, and Liliana cast him a small smile before she continued down the road, her eyes searching for the sign of the _Grey Serpent_ _Inn_.

_Go to the inn, and then just ask one of the people for Deliah. Sounds easy enough._

Her eyes fell onto the roofs in the distance, dark slate glistening dully in the light of the sun, and an icy lump formed in her belly at their sight. Greyburgh had lived in one of these houses. Died in one of these houses.

As soon as she had heard the news, she had searched for Damian, trying to offer him what comfort she could, but he had already left the mansion despite the early hour of the day, probably making arrangements for the burial.

She had then tried to comfort her mother instead, for the news had shaken her badly, but the dark feeling of foreboding and uneasiness that had crept through the house in breathless whispers and ill-spreading rumors, seeping into every room, had finally become so depressing that she felt like suffocating, and so she had decided to accept Deliah's offer to visit her, no matter how loudly her mother had protested, everything just to leave the house for a while.

"Terrible thing."

Jackson seemed to have guessed what she had been thinking and was now standing beside her, his eyes fixed on the distant roofs.

"Dark times if things like this are happening to good people like your family, Miss Liliana. Dark times," he said in a voice befitting for a funeral, shaking his head sadly, but at his words, Liliana felt that icy lump coiling in her belly once more.

Of course it was a terrible thing… but if she was honest, she felt more miserable for her brother than for Greyburgh, even if he had been the one getting killed. He might have been one of their most loyal employees, having worked for her family for decades… but the truth was, she had never really liked him.

There had always been something cold, something calculating in his dark eyes, and she could still vividly remember how unwell he had always seemed to feel when she had entered his study as a child, an uneasiness that never truly went away even when she grew older, as if he had still been afraid that she would spray ink over his clothes and papers the moment she stepped over the threshold.

_But still. He and Damian were close. This must have been such a shock for him._

Promising herself that she would try and comfort her brother as soon as he had returned to their home, she walked on towards her destination, the sign of the inn merely a couple of yards away, and her hand was already closing around the knob of the door when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

She turned around, puzzled, and saw Jackson standing beside her, a grim look on his face.

"This inn is no place for you, Miss Liliana," he stated firmly. "Please wait right beside the door for me while I ask about Madame al-Haffrain and Master Korban." He waited for Liliana to nod in agreement, then opened the door to let her enter. "If something's amiss, just scream, and I will be by your side again in a second."

Compared to the bright light outside, the taproom of the _Grey Serpent_ was rather dark and gloomy, the air smelling of smoke and stale ale. Liliana did as she had been told and waited right beside the entrance, frowning at Jackson's broad back as her guard moved slowly towards the other end of the room to speak with the innkeeper, something close to annoyance welling up inside her.

_This inn is no place for you, Miss Liliana? Wait right beside the door?What did he think would have happened if I had walked up to the bar myself, to ask the questions? I'm not a child anymore, and this is not the docks!_

A peal of laughter suddenly reached her ear, and she turned, curious. At one of the tables to her right, a group of women was sitting on the wooden benches, talking and laughing. Liliana hesitated for a moment, but after a short glance towards the bar where Jackson was still talking to the innkeeper she quickly crossed the small distance and approached the group, all eyes turning to her when she stepped closer.

"Excuse me," she said when she had reached the table.

"What can we do for you, sweetheart?"

One of the women was getting up from her chair. She was not in her first youth anymore, wearing a rather revealing corsage and brown skirt, her whiteblonde hair shimmering in the bit of light that was falling through a small window behind her back. Her lips and cheeks were painted skillfully in gaudy colours, but neither the rouge on her skin nor the kohl around her eyes could hide the deep lines of her face, hinting at a hard life full of hidden disappointment. She eyed Liliana with a rather speculative look in her hard blue eyes, but her smile was friendly as she spoke.

"Please excuse me. I… I did not mean to disturb you." One of the other women, a very skinny red-haired girl in a similarly revealing dress, giggled at these words. Liliana just gulped and went on. "I am looking for Deliah al-Haffrain. Do you know where I can find her caravan?"

The woman with the whiteblonde hair frowned.

"Deliah… Deliah… do you mean the singer?"

Liliana nodded, the beat of her heart accelerating ever so slightly.

"Yes, she's a bard."

The woman's smile widened.

"Ah. That woman's not hard to find, dear. Just follow this lane towards the direction of the Caravan Court, and turn to the left just before you reach the High Road… her wagon's parked on a backyard back there."

Liliana cast her an answering smile, the prospect of seeing Deliah and Korban so soon doing a lot to ease her mind.

"I thank…" she began, but was interrupted when Jackson suddenly reappeared by her side. The women on the benches whistled quietly as her guard approached, and he blushed, keeping his eyes fixed hard on Liliana.

"Miss Liliana," he said rather briskly. The red-haired woman giggled again. "I have asked for the way. It seems to be just a few hundred yards down this lane."

Liliana nodded and cast the woman a last grateful smile before following Jackson to the door. "Thank you for your help."

"Liliana? Is that your name?"

At the sound of the woman's voice, she stopped in her tracks and turned once more, surprised to find the other woman still watching her with a very different expression this time, the look in her eyes suddenly full of curiosity as they ran over her face, only to end up following her hair down her shoulders. A kind of understanding seemed to dawn in them, and an amused little smile lifted the corners of her painted mouth.

"I see," she murmured under her breath.

"Yes?", Liliana asked, feeling strangely uneasy under the intense scrutiny all of a sudden. "Do we… do we know each other?"

For a moment, it seemed as if the woman wanted to say something. But then she simply shook her head, and Liliana was startled to see something close to pity mingle with the curiosity in her eyes.

"No," the woman said quietly. "We really don't."

She pointed her chin at Jackson. "Your man's right – it's just a few blocks down the street."

And with that, she simply turned around to rejoin her friends, leaving a stunned Liliana behind while the other women all cast her bright smiles and waved at Jackson, who did his best to ignore the unwelcome attention. Confused, Liliana turned to follow her guard down the narrow line between the tables, but couldn't help but to stop at the door to look back one last time, her mind spinning.

The woman was still watching her from across the room, her whiteblonde hair shining like a halo in the light of the sun, that strange mixture of curiosity and pity still on her face.

xxx

It turned out that the woman at least had been right – the backyard had not been hard to find. Even from a block away they had already heard the shouting and laughing, the lively noise guiding their way as surely as the most detailed map.

It seemed that due to the Spring Fair, the Caravan Court was completely overrun by carts and wagons, and that this court (backyard actually didn't do it justice, or so Liliana thought as she searched her way through the vast crowd for any sign of Deliah or Korban, or their wagon) was one of many where the merchants and travellers could gather in times like these when the city seemed to burst with strangers.

The crowd of the yard could be described as nothing but exotic. Merchants from all over the Sword Coast could be seen, mingling with Dalesfolk and darker skinned men and women who spoke in the voice of Amn or Calimshan, and even the purple dragon of distant Cormyr could be seen on a wagon or two.

The place was bursting with life, people arguing, selling or buying all sorts of things or just exchanging gossip. It was truly an exciting place… or it would have been, Liliana thought uncomfortably, if she had been able to forget that strange expression on that woman's face as soon as she had confirmed that Liliana was indeed her name.

_It was a bit creepy,_ she mused, the memory leaving her neck to prickle uncomfortably again, _the way she looked at me_, _as if she had suddenly understood something that she had never been able to grasp before_.

It probably was nothing, but right now, with Greyburgh dead and so many weird things happening to her in the last two weeks, she couldn't help but to feel a little uneasy at the memory of that knowing look that a complete stranger had given her.

It was absolutely understandable. No one would blame her. But still, it made her feel like a sheep.

_Just look at me_, Liliana thought sourly, _give me a few more days, and I will jump at the sight of my own shadow_.

There was nothing to worry about, after all. Bad things usually come in threes, wasn't that what Nerdanel always used to tell her? It seemed to be true, at least in her case, so she could relax – things were bound to look up for her and her family soon.

_Keep telling yourself these things, and one day, you might actually start to believe them._

Liliana was almost relieved when she suddenly caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd, her dark thoughts instantaneously forgotten when she saw Deliah's slim figure standing on her wagon, talking to another woman whose long brown hair fell down her back in a thick braid.

Deliah suddenly looked up, and a welcoming smile made her dark eyes sparkle when she recognised the young woman who was now approaching her wagon.

"Sweetheart," she greeted in her deep melodic voice. "What a pleasure that you could come!"

"I did not mean to disturb you," Liliana replied with a nervous smile as her eyes wandered from Deliah to her guest and back again. "I can come back later."

The bard clicked her tongue and waved her hand impatiently, but her eyes were still sparkling.

"Nonsense. My friend and I just said our farewells, so your timing couldn't have been any better. Bronwyn, this is Liliana."

The other woman turned and cast Liliana a curious glance. She wasn't much taller than a halfling, small and slim with fascinating large eyes like a deer, but the look in them was surprisingly intense and Liliana almost cringed under the sudden scrutiny.

"My pleasure," the woman called Bronwyn finally said with a small smile as Liliana made a quick curtsy. "I will take my leave, then."

She turned, but then stopped one more time, casting Deliah a last knowing look.

"I might be late today, depending on when I can leave the shop. Will you tell him, when you go and see him?"

Deliah nodded.

"That I will."

Bronwyn nodded. "Have fun!", she shouted over her shoulder and waved a hand as she made her way down the square, her slim figure vanishing quickly in the crowd. Deliah waved after her and then cast Liliana another warm, welcoming smile as she held out her hand.

"Come on, sweetheart, come in."

Liliana frowned as she reached for the offered hand with one of her own while the other firmly gripped the wood of the driver's seat, still uncertain whether or not she was stealing the bard's precious time.

"I could come back later, if you have other plans…" she began once more, but Deliah would hear nothing of it.

"Don't worry, dear. If you are referring to the appointment that Bronwyn was talking about, that won't take place before the evening. Besides," and here her smile widened as she helped Liliana to climb up onto the wagon. "There should always be time to drink tea with a friend."

The wagon was still the same wondrous place it had been on the day of her flight. As Deliah used her magical device to make tea, Liliana let her eyes wander through the cart once more, its sight still fascinating.

It seemed a bit smaller in broad daylight, with all the chests and cupboards lining the wall, but somehow it still managed to feel cozy rather than cramped. There were lots of books and papers lying on the nearest chest and floor, some of them showing the fine lines and black dots of notes forming a song, and there were some exquisite dresses draped over one of the beds in the back. Liliana recognised the dark red one as the splendid clothes Deliah had worn the previous evening.

"Lift your cup, dear, be so good," the bard stated gently with the tea pot already in her hand, and Liliana hastily complied while casting her hostess an apologetic smile.

"I am sorry," she said, blushing. "But your cart… it is so fascinating."

Deliah's smile widened as she accepted the compliment with an elegant bow of her head.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I am happy you think so."

Liliana obediently lifted her cup with both hands and watched as Deliah poured the steaming water into the bowl. The pot was of a beautiful design, all spirals and flowery patterns that were mirrored in the small cup. Both were made from dark iron and much heavier than the tea dishes Liliana was used to, but they were beautiful in their simplicity and she admired them greatly.

"This is from Kozakura," Deliah explained, noticing the interest of her guest in her tools. "From the continent of Kara-Tur, in the East. Just like the tea."

"Really?" Liliana lifted her cup and carefully took a sip. The tea was still very hot, almost burning her lips, but her curiosity got the better of her. The brew had a surprisingly spicy taste to it, not as sweet and flowery as the teas she was used to, and the air of the caravan was soon filled with its strong aroma.

"It tastes… differently," she finally commented, not quite certain whether this was actually a good thing or not. "Somewhat… spicy."

Deliah nodded.

"That is why the Kozakurans prefer to drink it with milk… and honey."

She reached over the table and opened the lids of two small dark iron bowls already placed on the table, the liquid inside the left showing a creamy white while the other shone in a soft amber colour, and Liliana had to suppress a squeal of girlish delight as the bard lifted a small silver dipper to pour both milk and honey into her guest's cup and then her own.

"Try it now", the woman said with a knowing smile.

The tea was still spicy, but its fire was now balanced by the milk and sweetened by the honey and Liliana found to her own surprise that she enjoyed this uncommon mixture immensely. "It tastes wonderful," she beamed at her hostess. "Did you really travel all the way to Kozakura to get it?"

Deliah laughed as she poured herself some tea and then sat down on one of the cushions around the table. "No, sweetheart. I have travelled wide in my youth, yes, but not so far. These tools and the tea are from Calimport where I bought them a little while ago. The Kozakurans might be a strange folk, but you have to admit that they really have a hand for tea… and for celebrating it properly."

"What was it like, being in Calimport?" Liliana asked, fascinated.

"Calimport? It can be a beautiful city, if you know what corners you have to avoid. It's an exotic place, with its large palaces and never-closing markets, and the city truly never sleeps – even more so than Waterdeep."

"That sounds wonderful," Liliana sighed wistfully. "The desert, the palaces, the Souk… I wish I could go there one day and see it for myself."

Deliah smiled.

"It's just like I said – just keep an eye open that you don't end up in the wrong part of town, see that you get to know the right people and never travel without company, and everything should be fine."

She winked, an impish glint in her eyes.

"Why don't you ask that lovely, good-looking fiance of yours to accompany you to the South? I'm certain that he would appreciate to see you in a traditional Calishite dress."

Liliana giggled, her cheeks warming softly as she imagined herself wearing one of the scandalous silken dresses that she had seen on many Calishite belly dancers here in Waterdeep. She knew that she was a fortunate woman to marry a man like Cedric, but that a woman like Deliah thought so, too, made her all the happier.

"I will ask him," she replied, still blushing. "Your performance was so wonderful, by the way – he was absolutely impressed, and so was I. I have never seen a bard with your skill. It was an honour."

Deliah made a small, flourishing bow to acknowledge the compliment, and Liliana's eyes fell on a parchment lying on the desk behind her, the bright colours and artful writing of the header catching her eye.

"Isn't that the banner of Silverymoon?"

Deliah turned around to follow her gaze, her puzzled look giving way to another smile as her eyes fell on the desk.

"Oh, yes, it is indeed. It is an invitation to the Midsummer Riverfest. Do you know that there is bard college in the city, the college of Foclucan?"

Liliana shook her head.

"It was once a conservatory of great renown, but was destroyed by orcs over a century ago. It has been rebuilt now, and once a year at Midsummer they hold a great celebration for the students and inhabitants of the city alike. They do invite bards from all over the country to perform there, too, so that the students can meet with them later and benefit from their experience while they play and practise with their elders."

The bard smiled as she put down her empty cup on the table.

"A friend of mine is now an instructor at the conservatory and she demanded that I make an appearance this year – and made it quite clear in her letter that she won't accept a 'No'." She winked as she reached again for the tea pot, casting her guest a questioning look.

"It must be such a beautiful city," Liliana stated as she eagerly held up her own cup for a refill. "I read about it in _Volo's Guide to the North_, and it sounded like such a lovely place!"

"It is indeed. But have you never been to Silverymoon? I thought your family had business connections to all the large cities in the North of Faerun?"

"We do indeed," Liliana replied, her heart feeling strangely heavy all of a sudden. "But father never took me along on such long travels. My… mother wouldn't allow it."

Deliah's smile was a little too understanding as she once again filled their cups with milk and honey.

"Well, maybe you and your… Cedric?" Liliana nodded, feeling the familiar sweet heat creeping into her cheeks at the mentioning of his name, and Deliah's smile widened. "Cedric then. How about the two of you go there for your honeymoon? Lady Alustriel and Lord Taern Hornblade are ruling both the city and the Silver Marches with wisdom and care, and it's a wondrous place for all the fine arts – music, art, poetry… The streets are filled with music and song, and if you walk along the river Rauvin you are passing all the exquisite theatres, libraries and galleries. There goes not an evening in Silverymoon where there isn't a grand happening somewhere, especially in the summer."

"It can be a truly wonderful and magical place," she added with another smile and a wink. "Especially for a young couple in love."

For a moment, Liliana imagined her and Cedric walking the streets of Silverymoon between the ancient trees and soaring towers, and a strange longing welled up in her heart, making her sigh wistfully once more.

"I will ask him. We don't have decided yet where we want to go after the wedding, so… it sounds great!"

In front of her inner eye, Liliana still saw them walking down the elegant lanes between the artfully crafted houses, now holding Cedric's hand while carrying a lute on her back, and she swallowed, her voice catching a little as she finally asked the question that had been burning on the tip of her tongue as soon as they had started to talk about the conservatory.

"Do you… do you know whether the college there is still accepting students?"

Deliah raised a skillfully painted brow.

"They do indeed. The conservatory has only been re-opened for a few years now, and they are still rebuilding. Why do you ask?"

"Well…" Liliana could feel her cheeks burning, and unfortunately this time it had nothing to do with Cedric. "I have taken lessons, you know? I learned to play the lute, and the harp, and the flute – even to sing. I thought that maybe one day… but I am not _that_ good, so…"

Liliana suddenly broke off, feeling too embarrassed to continue. What in the Nine Hells had made her ask that question? If she could not even convince her love and family that she had the skill to be a bard, how could she even dare to approach Deliah, who was one of the most famous bards in all of Faerun? She was bound to laugh right into her face for her audacity!

_Stupid sheep!_

But the bard was watching her intently, her brows furrowed ever so slightly as if she was lost in deep concentration. Then she gracefully got up from her seat to lift her lute off the wall and to hold it out to Liliana, who watched it with wide eyes.

"What… what are you doing?"

The bard cast her an encouraging smile.

"Take it. Play it!"

Liliana stared at the woman, aghast. "_What_? Do you mean… me? Playing? _Now_?"

Deliah's smile widened.

"Well, why not? In some parts of the world, it is a custom that no food or drink should be served without at least some kind of music being played – it is considered impolite. And if you truly think about becoming a bard, sweetheart, you must learn to perform whenever you are asked. So please do me the favour and take it – I would really love to hear you play."

"But I… I don't have any notes," Liliana stammered, her palms feeling uncomfortably clammy as she reached for the lute with shaking hands.

"Oh, this won't be a problem." The bard leaned down and fetched one of the many parchments lying on the ground which to Liliana's great horror showed row after row of neatly painted notes. She placed it before her on the desk with a wide smile, and Liliana frowned as she tried to decipher the various notes. Something about the melody was very familiar.

"This is _Midwinter's Night_, isn't it?"

"Pardon?"

Yes. The longer she followed the notes with her eyes, the more certain Liliana was that she was right.

"_Midwinter's Night_, the song. I recognised it when you played it yesterday in the _Nightsong_, but the way you sung it… I had never heard it that way before. But I liked it very much."

Deliah took a quick look at the notes.

"It is indeed. You recognised the song just by reading the first notes?"

"It is one of my favourites." Liliana blushed. "So I… I know it quite well."

Deliah smiled. "Well then, sweetheart – play it for me."

For a long moment, Liliana hesitated, her stomach churning uncomfortably while her heart was hammering loudly in her chest. Then she reached for the lute and rearranged her seat on the cushion, playing a few hesitant notes to get to know the instrument a bit better. It was larger and heavier than her own lute, but even these few notes made her want to sigh in awe – she had never played such a well-made instrument before.

She cast her hostess a nervous glance and found that Deliah was still watching her attentively with that small, encouraging smile, and so she cast the woman a shaky smile of her own, took a deep breath… and began to play.

At first, her nervousness got the better of her and she missed a few chords, Deliah's delicate writing not making it any easier for her to read the notes, but it was just like every time when she had to perform in front of an audience – as soon as she was getting into the music, _really _into the music, everything seemed to fade and there was nothing but her and her instrument and her song, and her voice rang clear through the small wagon as she started to sing.

_Too soon the sun will come a-calling over the hills in our little town  
__Too soon the snow will start falling over the world without a sound  
__While in my room dreams are a-fleeting  
__I close my eyes one more time  
__All to quickly the dawn is breaking and I must leave the night behind_

_The bells are a-ringing  
__On Mid Winters Night  
__The Moon sets all alone  
__And once again I try to sleep before the morning light  
__The bells are a-ringing  
__On Mid Winters Night  
__The Moon sets all alone  
__And once again I try to sleep before the morning light_

"This is a wonderful instrument," Liliana stated shyly after she had played the last chord, worriedly eyeing her hostess for her reaction as she handed her the lute. "I don't think I ever played such a valuable instrument before."

She gulped, not knowing what to make of the stern expression on Deliah's face.

"So… what do you think?"

The bard was quiet for a moment.

"How old are you, sweetheart?" she finally asked, that serious expression still in place.

"I… I just came of age this spring."

"You have talent, Liliana," the bard replied, the tone of her voice matching her serious expression. "I can hear from your voice that you have been trained, and you have a natural feeling for the music which is always a very good thing, but to be honest – you should have started your professional training a long time ago to really develop your skills."

She frowned, but Liliana barely heard her next words as a wave of excitement welled through her, leaving her heart to pound even more rapidly. Had Deliah truly said that she thought she had talent?

"If you truly intend to become one of our caste, you will have to start with more serious studies right away, under the watchful eyes of a professional bard instructor."

"But you… you really think I have talent?"

The bard smiled, the smile easing the intensity of her gaze.

"You are asking me whether I think you have talent? You got these notes here that you have never seen before, played on an instrument that isn't yours and have done it so wonderfully while reciting the words of the song from your memory?"

She reached over to gently touch Liliana's cheek.

"If you work very hard under the right masters and do not dawdle with your studies, I have no doubt that with your voice and your face, you could make a good living as a bard one day."

She narrowed her eyes, thinking.

"If you are serious about this, I would be glad to help. I have a lot of connections to all the major bard colleges all over Faerun, and I am certain that one of them will take you in. There is even a college here in Waterdeep, if you don't want to leave the city for your education."

Liliana stared at her hostess with wide eyes, her cheeks reddening partly from excitement, partly from nerves, fighting the sudden urge to pinch herself to make sure that this wasn't a dream.

"You.. you would do that? Really?"

"Of course! Why would I not help a sister to develop her gods-given talent?" Deliah raised her eyebrows quizzically. "So it is settled then?"

The bard lifted her cup of tea in a small salute which Liliana hurried to copy, and then they drank their tea, sealing the deal.

"But now, sweetheart, let us get back to the truly important things." Deliah smiled as she leaned back on her cushion, the impish glint back in her dark eyes. "You _must_ tell me how you met your Cedric – and I want to hear all the details!"

xxx

"Damian?"

Liliana opened the door of the study to peek into the large, rectangular room and frowned when she found it empty for all but the various desks and shelves where her brother kept his books and papers and many other things, the decorative weapons and shields hanging on the wall glowing softly in the warm light of the evening sun.

She opened the door a bit further to slip into the room, and then paused for a moment to admire her new dress in the large mirror that hung right beside the door.

Madame Meiroth had certainly done a tremendous job with her dress. It had been crafted from the finest satin in a deep midnight blue, but the cloth was shimmering in a mysteriously turquoise-greenish colour whenever the light touched it in the right way.

Dark lace and flowery ornaments rimmed a corset with a scandalously low-cut neckline and various lush layers of skirts, the latter falling wide around her slender form because of the crinoline she was wearing underneath.

Liliana could not resist to move and turn a little to see the cloth swinging back and forth with her movements, and her heart was beating faster with excitement when she imagined the look on Cedric's face when she stepped out of her carriage, her fair hair flowing freely around her bare shoulders.

Finally remembering why she had come here in the first place, Liliana grinned at her image in the mirror for the last time and then quickly stepped further into the room, aiming for the door at the opposite side that led to Damian's bedchamber. Betsy had told her that her brother was back at the mansion while the girl had helped her to curl her hair, and so Liliana wanted to take this opportunity to speak with him before she would have to leave for the barbecue herself after just having said her farewell to their parents who were going to answer a different invitation of their own, and would not return before noon the next day.

Liliana had always loved visiting Damian's study for all the curious items that he had collected over the years, antique weapons and nautical instruments most prominent among them, but one of her favourites was the water bowl that she was now approaching.

It was a round bowl, so large that she could barely put her arms around it, and filled with crystal-clear water almost up to its brim. Two fishes were lazily swimming inside the glass, shimmering and glittering in unnaturally brilliant colours of white, gold and red, their split tails way too lush and fancy to be real fish.

Liliana stopped for a moment to clink with one of her fingers softly against the glass to get the fishes attention. They were nothing but an illusion, a gift from his master that Damian had received after he had finished his apprenticeship in Neverwinter, who obviously had been on very good terms with the skilled mages of the city.

Liliana smiled when she remembered how envious she had been when Damian had first shown her his new prize, her younger self _dying_ to have these beautiful fishes and therefore nagging him for weeks and weeks to give them to her so that she could treat them properly.

She knew they were just a powerful and skillful illusion, but since the fishes always reacted so lifelike to their surroundings, now slowly circling the place where she was putting her finger against the glass, it had always been difficult for her to treat them as anything but living creatures, and Damian had finally allowed her to name them, at least a small triumph for the little girl that had wanted the fishes so badly.

She cast a last smile at Flotsam and Jetsam and almost jumped when she heard the door behind her close with a sharp thud.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Her heart speeding up both from surprise and recognition, she looked up and smiled as she spotted the lithe frame of her brother slowly making his way to his working desk in front of the large windows, carrying several leather-bound documents under his arm.

"_Gods_, Damian," she breathed, still smiling. "You startled me."

He put down the books onto the table and then turned to look at her, his answering smile seeming strangely forced, and Liliana felt her heart call out for him when she noticed the dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept properly for days.

"Forgive me, sister," he replied in his smooth voice, but it seemed to lack its usual warmth as well. "That was not my intention."

His eyes roamed over her body, taking in the sight of her new dress and long, curled hair. "You look pretty."

Liliana blushed, her smile widening as she fought the childish impulse to make a small pirouette just to show him how lovely the long skirts followed her movements. "Thank you. I will have to leave for the barbecue soon, but I wanted to come over and talk to you first."

A shadow flickered across his face, an emotion so fast that she could not read it, and his muscles seemed to tense at her words. "Indeed?"

She nodded.

"I am so very sorry for what happened to Greyburgh," Liliana went on as she stepped closer to him, her voice full of sympathy. "I… it was such a shock. I know the two of you have been very close, working together for all these years. I have no idea what that must have felt like, getting this news, so…" She paused for a moment, searching for words. "I just wanted to tell you that I am here for you, if you should need someone to talk to."

For a long moment, Damian just watched her, his gaze intense, the silent scrutiny more than a little unnerving. Then his lips twitched in what seemed to be a genuine smile, full of amusement, but there were darker emotions lurking in the depths of his eyes that she could not read, and Liliana was surprised to realise that it startled her.

"You almost got me, you know?" Damian's voice was soft, cat-like. "I have been watching you these past days, wondering what you were thinking, what you were up to - and you almost had me convinced."

He shook his head, still smiling, but his voice had a sharp edge when he went on.

"It should not surprise me, I guess – you are my sister, after all. There must be _some_ steel hidden in you. So do not think for a moment that I have not looked through your little charade."

That comment made her frown.

"Charade?" she asked, confused.

_What does he mean with that?_

Her conscience nudged her sharply, reminding her of her own thoughts just a few hours ago, and Liliana gulped, feeling highly uncomfortable all of a sudden.

_Do you think it's safe to say that it is no secret that you and Greyburgh did not part on the best of terms, Liliana?_

She cleared her throat, not quite able to meet Damian's eyes all of a sudden.

"Look… I admit it, I never really liked him… but he was always so very _stern_ when I was around." _I do believe that he disliked me with a passion, to be exact_. "So… I did not think too highly of him, yes, but that does not mean I wished him ill!"

Damian chuckled, a surprisingly harsh sound. "Of course."

His eyes bored hard into hers, and the piercing intensity of his gaze was again more than a little unnerving. "I almost got soft, you know?" he murmured, his smooth voice quite a contrast to the hard gleam in his eyes. "Because you are my sister, I was willing to let this go, to find an alternative solution… but I always win my games, Liliana. You and your friend have just raised the stakes, and I hope that you are prepared for that."

Liliana listened to his softly spoken words, her own confusion growing by the minute, but now anger mingled surprisingly strong with her bafflement. In front of her inner eye, she could see Greyburgh standing beside her brother, his cold eyes watching her with a dislike that only seemed to grow over the years, and her lips compressed to a thin line.

How could he accuse her of keeping up a charade when she felt even more sorry for the man than he deserved? And what was all that other nonsense about, about letting things go, of finding alternative solutions?

"Stakes? Games?" she therefore asked, her own voice a little sharper than before. "What _the hells _are you talking about?"

There was a knock at the door, and they both turned around to see one of the maidens standing in the doorway, making a quick curtsy before she focused her attention on Liliana.

"Miss Liliana? The carriage has been prepared for you. The presents are all stowed away, and the driver is ready to drive you to the Silverton mansion."

"One moment, Morgan, please." Liliana lifted her hand imploringly while her eyes returned to Damian, the tone of her voice clearly demanding an answer. "So? What was it you were talking about?"

Damian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Please, sister. Do not try to play me for a fool."

"I am not playing you," Liliana replied angrily. "What did I do? Did I offend you in a way?" She paused, thinking. "Is it because I reprimanded you for speaking so badly about Evelyn? Well, I was right to do so – she's a fine girl, and she deserves better than your scorn!"

"Should I… should I tell the driver to wait?" Morgan's voice could be heard again, the girl's uncertain gaze wandering from Liliana to Damian and back again, obviously feeling rather uncomfortable to be an eyewitness to this kind of conversation.

"No, Morgan, that won't be necessary," Damian replied rather coolly. "I still have work to do, so we are finished here. And you would not want to keep dear Cedric waiting, now would you, Liliana?"

Liliana inhaled sharply at these words, her sudden anger coming to a boil at the blatant dismissal. By every god and his mother, what had gotten into Damian? And to think that she had come here to comfort him, only to be accused of lies and schemes!

"_Fine,_" she replied, her voice equally cool. "I will go. But do not think that you are getting away with this so easily!"

Her brother's eyes narrowed even further at her words, but Liliana simply turned to walk towards the door. "Come, Morgan. Let us not waste more of Master Damian's precious time."

The girl made another curtsy and hurriedly left the room while Liliana set out to follow her, only to stop dead in her tracks as soon as she reached the door to turn around on the threshold to face her brother one last time.

"Look, I do not know what has gotten into you, but I am really sorry that he is dead," she stated, her anger making her voice even sharper than before. "I understand that this pains you, but do not make it sound like it's my fault simply because I cannot mourn him the way you do – because, to be honest, to me, he was nothing but a cold-hearted and very selfish little man."

And with that, she lifted her skirts and followed Morgan out into the hallway without deigning her brother with another glance, anger and hurt still burning strongly in her blood. She tried not to let it spoil her mood, but it did not leave her alone even as she was already sitting in the small compartment of the carriage taking her through the bustling evening streets of Waterdeep towards Cedric's house, her own home long out of sight.


	9. Closing In

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

Smiling, Bishop made his way through the early morning streets of Waterdeep, his backpack shouldered, his scimitars by his side.

Today would be the day.

Finally.

He could hardly wait.

Feeling unusually relaxed after another romp with the whore – no slips of tongue this time – and a good night's sleep afterwards, he had left the Grey Serpent Inn this morning, intending to never return. He would place his stuff in the boathouse and prepare for the evening.

Afterwards, he'd leave Waterdeep as soon as possible. No use sticking around, risking to get caught.

Well, he'd have to deal with the brother first, but that should not take a lot of time. A quick dagger between the ribs on a nightly street, and that would be that. No reason to draw it out.

After all, that was just tying up loose ends.

But the girl... that was _personal_. Something to treasure, and enjoy.

And he would. Oh, how he would.

Reaching the crumbling wall surrounding the estate with the deserted mansion, he quickly glanced around. Finding the street empty, he climbed over the wall without difficulties and made his way through the overgrown park to the boathouse.

Satisfied, he noticed that the boat was still afloat next to the jetty. He checked and grinned when he found no water inside.

Still watertight, then.

Everything was running smoothly. Tonight, he would have his revenge.

Entering the boathouse, he put his backpack to the ground and looked around searchingly.

How to do it to make the most of it?

He'd have to tie her up, naturally. But how? Just trussing her wouldn't do. Either it would leave her too much mobility, or he'd have to tie her up so tightly it would hinder the cutting.

Binding her to one of the pillars was a possibility, but still it would make parts of her unavailable.

His eyes wandered to the beams of the roof, and a nasty smile crossed his face.

Yes. That would be perfect.

He took out two ropes from his backpack, forming a noose at one end each. Then he threw the other end up, until it came down on the other side of the beam. Looking around for something to fasten them on, his eyes found the racks for the oars that lined the walls of the boathouse.

The nasty smile widened.

Perfect. Just perfect.

If he put her wrists into the nooses, and then pulled her up until her toes barely reached the ground, she would be effectively immobilised, because she would be busy trying to stay on her feet, to keep her weight from constricting the nooses, and dislocating her shoulders.

And he would be able to move around her freely...

For a moment, he shivered in anticipation.

He hoped she would beg.

Oh yes. He really wanted to hear her beg.

A little later, his preparations complete, he walked the by now familiar way around the lake, passing estate after estate until he reached the park where she lived. He had not wanted to risk taking the boat before it got dark. First, rowing it over the wide, open surface of the lake, he would be completely exposed, and he would not risk that now, his revenge within his grasp at last.

Second, if he hid the boat on the other side now, someone might find it and raise alarm.

No. He'd take the boat after dusk, take her right out of her bedroom, as he had planned.

And then...

Shivering again, he slipped through the bushes under the cover of his camouflage until the house came into sight.

There was nothing left to do today. His preparations were complete. But he still wanted to watch her. Revel in the feeling that she would be at his mercy, soon. Relish the knowledge that here he was, stalking her, while she was completely oblivious to his presence. Build an appetite, so to say.

Smiling thinly, he took position in the bushes to watch the house and wait for her to show herself.

And she did, even if it took her quite some time to leave the house. Probably a lot of things to do first - big breakfast, a lot of dressing up afterwards - and Bishop had nearly given up on his plan to stay on her heels today when finally, the sun already high up in the sky, she left the house, the same guard at her side as last time.

Bishop grinned, satisfied, and set off to follow them, keeping a healthy distance, relying either on his camouflage to keep him out of sight or taking great care to stay in the shadows. It would not do to let her glimpse him now. Luckily, she did not seem very alert this day, seeming rather dazed as she made her way through the busy morning crowd of the trade district. He could not be sure from afar, but what glimpses he caught of her face looked rather stricken.

He remembered the city guard last night, coming with a certain message for Mister Damian de Lavrans, and had quite a good idea what was weighing so heavily on her mind. He chuckled quietly to himself.

_Don't worry, mousie. Soon, you will have other problems to think about._

Other than the girl, the guard seemed alert, keeping his hand on his sword and his eyes on the crowd. Wouldn't do much good, though, since he'd never seen Bishop, so even if he noticed him, it would not cause any alarm.

Once, due to her absentmindedness, the girl ran into an old biddy carrying a basket of apples, sending the fruits flying. Bishop smiled again when he saw her blush, apologize, and then kneel down to pick up the apples.

Oh yes, she was really shaken.

Good.

She would be even more shaken, soon.

Busy with his self-satisfied gloating, Bishop nearly missed the moment the mouse suddenly turned her head sharply, her brows drawn together as her gaze wandered over the busy street searchingly. Cursing inwardly at his carelessness, Bishop barely managed to dodge behind the corner of a building in time.

His heartbeat accelerated, Bishop pressed his back against the wall, barely daring to breathe. Had she seen him? Why had she turned so suddenly, as if she was aware of being watched? Did she know he was here? Was she playing some game of her own?

No, he decided after a moment's thinking. If she truly had known he was here, she would not be so reckless, going out with only one guard at her side. She knew him, and she knew one man would have no chance of stopping Bishop if he was out to get her.

But still, she seemed to have sensed _something_. As she apparently had yesterday, in the orchard. He would have to be even more careful.

Keeping that in mind, he peered around the corner, just in time to see the girl hand the apples back to the old biddy, who seemed to be less than grateful, simply glaring at the mouse before hobbling down the street with her basket pressed against her chest.

Keeping even more distance, watching the mouse closely for all the little telltale signs that she was about to turn again, always ready to vanish into the shadows of the street, Bishop followed the girl and her guard further down the Way of the Dragon. Then he realized which building she was nearing, and frowned when she stopped in front of the Grey Serpent Inn to speak to her guard. Then the both of them entered.

A feeling of uneasiness crept up in Bishop. Could that be a coincidence? Had she somehow heard about him staying there, after all? But again, would she come with just a single guard in tow, looking for him? And wouldn't she look afraid instead of merely depressed? What was going on?

Muttering a curse, he sidled up to the building and slipped into the narrow, dark passage next to it. He knew the windows led into the taproom, and carefully, he peered inside, trying not to show himself too much.

And there she was, standing at the door while the guard had walked up to the innkeeper to talk to him. At this time of day, the taproom was nearly empty, only one table occupied, and the uneasy feeling in Bishop's stomach increased when he saw that it was occupied by the blonde whore and two other women.

_Drat!_

To his horror, he saw the girl approach the table with the whores, a tentative smile on her face, and the whore getting up to greet her.

_What the..._

He noticed the curious glances the whore threw the girl, who seemed rather uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but it was not before the guard returned to the girl's side, giving the other women a hard look, obviously in no doubt what their profession was, that Bishop saw the penny drop. The guard said something, and suddenly Bishop could see the eyes of the whore narrow as they travelled over the girl, lingering on her hair for a while. Then, clear as the day, realisation dawned on her face, and she smiled like a snake facing a rabbit.

Bishop's hand balled to fists, his knuckles turned white as fury rose in him, already seeing his beautiful plan going down the drain, but luckily the guard practically dragged the girl outside, away from the inappropriate company before the whore could spill the beans, obviously, since the expression of the girl never changed from confusion to fear. But Bishop did not miss the long glance the whore sent after the girl, and the way the girl turned back at the door to look at the whore, obviously feeling something was going on without being able to guess what.

Then she and her guard left the inn, leaving he whore behind with a thoughtful expression on her face.

Cursing a blue streak, Bishop thought quickly.

What he _wanted_ to do was go after the girl, to keep an eye on her.

But what he _needed_ to do was silence the whore.

Terminally, if need be.

He just could not risk her telling the girl about him. And there could be no doubt that she had realized who the girl was. And that there was money to make out of this situation.

So, cursing his luck, he stayed where he was, observing the whore through the grimy window with his jaw clenched tightly. He needed to get her alone. Would she never finish and leave...?

But finally, after half an hour, luck was on his side, and the whore got up to leave. Alone.

Bishop watched her walk to the door, then slowly crept up to the end of the alley, to see her leave the inn. And again, luck was on his side, because she was going his way. Swiftly, he drew one dagger out of his boots and waited for her to approach, pressed flat against the wall.

He let her nearly pass the narrow gap between the two houses before he swiftly reached out, one hand clamping over her mouth to keep her from screaming, the other arm around her waist, dragging her back. She made a surprised, muffled noise, and then he pressed her against the wall with his body, dagger at her throat, the other hand still clamped over her mouth while she struggled against his grip, her eyes full of fear.

"So you think you found a way to make a little money on the side, huh?", he growled. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, I'd say."

Strangely, with his words, she stopped struggling, and the fear went out of her eyes, to be replaced by... anger? Bishop could not help but feel a bit amused as she glared daggers at him, obviously furious, but limp in his grip.

He had to admit she had a lot more balls than many guys he could mention.

"I think you know better than to scream", he warned before he took his hand from her mouth, but kept the dagger at her throat.

She kept glaring at him while she hissed: "What do you think I am, braindead? I know your type, and I know the only payment I would get would be pointy end first between my ribs. Think you're the first crazy sonofabitch to cross my path, or the worst? Well, think again! I've learned when to keep my trap shut. So I suggest you remove that dagger of yours before I scream loud enough for the whole ward to hear!"

Bishop's lips twitched slightly. She had balls alright.

"I would not suggest screaming", he said mildly, keeping the dagger where it was. "Sure, people would come, but you would be just as dead. Let me make myself clear. So you realized when you saw the girl. You said you learned when to keep your mouth shut. I truly hope for your health that's the truth. I'd love to make sure, but unfortunately right now the ruckus that might cause would be inconvenient. So be glad you're lucky, and don't test your luck. What did she want?"

The whore, still looking more annoyed than afraid, shrugged, but carefully, with the dagger still digging into her skin. "Inquired after the way. Looking for some bard or other. We told her she could find her at a backyard near the Caravan Court, just a few blocks down the road. Could you please take that away, now? I've already told you I'm not totally stupid. I won't get in your way."

Bishop smiled thinly. "Good", he said, taking the dagger down and stepping back.

The whore eyed him speculatively, then smiled. Without a word, she turned, bracing herself against the wall, lowering her head so that her hair hid her face, and suddenly, her backside pressed against his loins, rubbing slightly.

"What do you think?", she whispered. "You could pretend I'm her again. For free, just to show we're still friends. I can be her for you."

Bishop watched the curtain of hair swinging slightly with her movements and swallowed as he felt himself grow hard once more. She obviously felt him through his breeches, because she moaned softly and rubbed harder.

"I can be her", she repeated. "What do you want me to do? Shall I beg? Beg for more? I can beg for you."

Her words sent another shiver down his spine and ignited the familiar fire in his body.

"Yes", he muttered hoarsely as he shoved up her skirt, finding she wore nothing underneath, as usual. "Let me hear you beg. Beg for mercy."

xxx

It was absolute nonsense, coming here.

He should just have stayed were he was, in the bushes beneath her window, and waited for her return.

_If_ he had any sense.

But then, if he had any sense, he would not be shagging whores in back alleys, pretending them to be the very girl he was out to gut like a pig. Imagining it was _her_ silvery hair swinging with every thrust of his hips, _her_ gasps and moans he heard, _her_ soft skin under his fingers as he dug them into the whore's sides, holding her steady. He had to admit that this was sick, even for his standards. And he had done some pretty sick stuff in his time without batting an eye.

What was _wrong_ with him?

And then, after that boneheaded scene in the alley, while sitting under the girl's window, waiting for her to come home for the night, a nagging feeling of impatience had settled in his stomach, making him shift uncomfortably again and again, fidgeting. _Fidgeting!_ Him! He did not fidget. Never. It just was not done. He was used to spending hours, patiently waiting for his prey to walk into his trap, after all.

Years and years of hunting had taught him patience, if nothing else.

But now – patience was the last thing he felt. Knowing that this was the night – _the _night – the night he had been waiting for, the night he would have his vengeance at last – he simply could not sit still and wait.

Plus, he still had been so wound up and irritated, not understanding what had gotten into him earlier.

Even his new friend, the watchdog, had sensed that something was amiss, throwing him a couple of confused glances, whining, and eventually had slunk away, not knowing what to make of the strange mood of his newly chosen master.

And in the end, Bishop simply could not stand sitting put anymore. So with a muttered curse, he got up and left the park.

Having overheard a conversation between two servants earlier, discussing a posh party the Silvertons were throwing tonight, it was not hard to guess where the girl had gone. After that, it had not been difficult, finding this mansion. Everyone in town seemed to know the Silverton family. Simply asking a couple of passersby had sent him into the right direction, and as he neared the property, he did not even have to ask anymore, just followed the coaches that still were arriving. Had to be a rather large shindig.

The mansion itself was lit with coloured lanterns, lackeys milling around, relieving the newly arriving guests of their coats and ushering them inside with low bows.

There was an extensive park around the building, also gaily lit by lanterns, and the laughter and talking of the guests jaunting along the artfully designed paths could be heard streets away. Here, also, lackeys carrying trays with drinks and posh little morsels were walking among the guests, offering them to the promenading groups of expensively dressed nobles.

Not wanting to go too close, even under the protection of his camouflage, Bishop's eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd for a familiar silver head.

And there it was, moving quickly into the opposite direction.

His eyebrows shot up as he noticed the way her steps were quick and somehow uneven, much less graceful than she usually moved. Her shoulders seemed slumped, and her head down.

Even from afar, she looked very much upset.

Quickly, he drifted back into the bushes and circled around the crowd, approaching the direction she had gone to from the side. Soon, he could hear a quiet, sobbing noise and immediately was certain that had to be her.

He entered a gravelled path between high, trimmed hedges that seemed to lead into the right direction, only to find it splitting after a couple of yards. He took the path to the right, and found it circling back soon.

Puzzled, he followed it for a bit, until he reached another junction. This time, he turned left, and found himself at a dead end after a short while. He rolled his eyes. Of course. A maze. Something every self-respecting noble had to have in his park.

Silly rubbish.

Well, he had no intention of crawling through the damn maze, trying to find his way through it. If the hedges were in his way, the hedges would have to go.

His hand had already closed around the handle of one of his scimitars when he heard the sobbing again – obviously right behind the hedge in front of him. He retracted his hand, crouched down and slowly, deliberately, removed some of the branches until he could see through the bushes.

_Careful – remember she seems to sense somehow when she's being watched._

There, on the other side was a kind of stone pavilion – and there was the mouse, rifling through the folds of her skirt until she found a handkerchief and blew her nose into it. She obviously had been crying. She was beautiful this evening, her hair done in ringlets and curls, a low cut robe of midnight blue satin and lace showing her figure to her best advantage, her face even more pretty with some delicately applied glamour. Still, her distress had left its traces on her face.

Another sob escaped her, and his hand squeezed the handle of his scimitar harder as a strange and unwelcome feeling welled up in him at the sight of her reddened and slightly swollen eyes, and the hurt expression on her face. The completely irrational impulse to go to her and wipe the tears from her cheeks. And, even more strangely, a sudden, sharp stab of anger.

What had the blasted sod done now, to put her in such a state?

Abruptly, her head shot up, interrupting his thoughts, and she wildly looked around her. "Hello?", she asked, her voice still thick from crying, but also rather alarmed.

Just in time to bring him back to his senses. Damn it, _again_ she felt someone was near. Was he losing his touch? Had he made a noise, a small movement to alert her?

Bloody hells. He had really and truly been about to get up, go to her, pull her to him and kiss her until she forgot all about that sodding milkboy she was about to marry. Was he going insane?

_Undoubtedly. Remember how well that worked the last time you tried that? Remember her words? Remember why you're here?_

Damn, damn, damn. Damn her to hells. His fury flared like tinder, all the more since it was partly directed at himself.

_Stupid ass. How often are you going to let yourself be fooled by her appearance? How often do you have to walk into that trap before you learn?_

Maybe... maybe he should not wait. Forget all about his elaborate plan. Just jump out of the bushes, kill her here and now and get it over with. Before he let his own stupidity get in his way.

Once more, his grip tightened around his beloved scimitars and his muscles tensed, preparing to push himself through the hedge, his mind envisioning the scene, her shocked face, how he let go of the weapon, his hand closing around her throat, choking...

But then, another voice rang through the night. "Lily?"

Her white bread of a fiancé. Bishop cursed inwardly, fuming, but forcing his body to relax as he settled back down.

_So, getting away once more, mousie? Don't think this is more than a delay. Tonight, nothing will safe you from my wrath._

At the sound of the voice, the girl's head shot up, and for a moment, Bishop thought she would start crying again. But then her face hardened, and she jumped to her feet and quickly made her way around the next bend.

There, she must have run into the wimp, because Bishop could hear her shouting. He smiled grimly, malicious joy acting like balm for his fury. Better to wait. Better to properly relish his vengeance later. Plus, he was going to enjoy this. A lover's spat? My, what a pity.

"Is it true?", he heard the mouse shout.

"What… Lily?", Cedric's voice came, sounding bewildered.

Hmmm. Very promising. Shame he could not see them, only hear. Quickly, Bishop looked around him, and there, a couple of yards away, was a small gap under the hedges, probably made by rabbits. It should be enough to wiggle through, if he was careful.

As noiselessly as he could, Bishop got on his belly and started crawling through the gap, but he probably could have spared himself the pain of being careful, because the other two seemed too engrossed in their dispute to notice anything at all.

"Is it true?", the mouse shouted again. "Is that why you won't touch me? Do you wish to take it all back, because you think that I am so…soiled?", her voice breaking at the last word.

Soiled? Wouldn't touch her? Now, that was an interesting turn of events. Had she told the ninny about what had happened? Somehow, it was hard to imagine, if she hadn't even told that girlfriend of hers.

She was sobbing again, and as he got to his feet on the other side of the hedge, repressing the impulse to brush the dirt off his clothes, Bishop heard hasty footsteps, and then the boy whispered something soothing, and her sobbing stopped.

Carefully, Bishop peered around the corner, and there they were – Cedric cradling the mouse in his arms. He was just in time to see her head sink at Cedric's shoulder, and her arms wrapping around him, holding tight.

Cedric's hands stroked her hair tenderly, and once more, Bishop felt a sharp stab of fury in his chest at the sight. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the irrational impulse to jump out and beat the git into a pulp aside.

What business was it of his? He only wanted to carve his revenge out of her skin and get out of here.

"What was this all about?", Cedric finally asked.

"Jeanne.", the mouse replied, her voice choked. Sniffing, she added: "She said that… that after what happened, you… you might not want to marry me anymore."

Jeanne? Hadn't he heard that name before, when she was in the orchard with that other mousy little girl? And what he had heard of her, she seemed just the kind of bitchy, snot-nosed brat that made him grateful for Karnwyr's company. Reminded him of that equally snot-nosed sorceress back in Neverwinter. She had always made him want to shut her dirty little mouth for good, too.

His mind was pulled back when Cedric spoke again. "That is not true.", he said, firmly. "In fact, nothing could be farther from the truth."

He took her chin in his hand to lift her face, and smiled down on the mouse in a way that made Bishop itch to punch him again. "I love you", he said. "I cannot wait to be your husband."

Bishop bared his teeth in something that had nothing to do with a smile. Couldn't wait, was it? Well, the pillock _would_ have to wait. Until he met her again in hell, to be exact.

"But… you did not even _try_ to kiss me.", the mouse said, her voice still choked. "I mean… _really_ kiss me since I came back. Not once."

Cedric froze for a moment, then said, sounding earnest: "Lily… what you have been through… I cannot even imagine how hard it must have been. I… you don't have to tell me what happened, unless you want to. But I thought that… maybe after all these privations, you would not want to be touched."

Bishop rolled his eyes. That guy was hopeless. What a dickhead.

But still – the knowledge that she had been waiting for the idiot to come to her, touch her – and in vain – brought a satisfied grin to his face.

_See? That's what you get for preferring a dweeb. Would not have had to ask _me_ twice to touch you._

The grin was short-lived, though, as her next words wiped it away again.

"Stupid Cedric", she whispered, stroking his face. "I _love_ you. How could I _not_ want you to touch me? That time in the woods… it was an ordeal. The thought of seeing you again, of being with you again… it was all that kept me going."

There it was again, that hot flash of fury. An ordeal, was it? Well, maybe it had been. But nothing, _nothing_ like what she would go through tonight.

With burning eyes, Bishop watched as the mouse stood up on her toes and pulled Cedric's face down, pressing her lips to his in a way that seemed to turn the hot fury into a raging inferno.

Before he knew it, Bishop's hands were at the hilts of his scimitars once more, he had made a step forward, and a menacing growl had risen in his throat. Just in time, he came back to his senses.

He swallowed the noise and forced his body to relax, retreating behind the hedge.

None of his business whose kisses she preferred. It sure was insulting that she would choose such a milksop over him, but in the end, it was of no consequence that she had bad taste.

She would die tonight, and that chapter of his life would be closed for good. He could hardly wait.

In any case, he had seen enough. Making his way back with long strides, he left more than one unplanned new opening in the carefully designed hedges behind, in no mood to let a couple of bushes stand in his way.

He would just go back to her home, and wait for her to return. And then, he would show her what he was truly made of.

It had been nonsense, coming here.

Absolute nonsense.


	10. A Night at the Barbecue

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

The Silverton mansion felt like the beating heart of the city tonight. The house and vast gardens were brightly lit by hundreds of multi-coloured lanterns, and it seemed to Liliana as if every inhabitant of the Castle Ward had found their way here to this celebration as she slowly made her way through the crowd gathered in the luxuriously decorated ball room, trying to greet everyone with a smile and to recall their names while searching for the more familiar faces among them.

"Look, it's little Liliana!"

She turned around at the words, and saw Lord Dunbar making his way towards her, grinning from ear to ear. He was a truly ancient man, a distant, wealthy relative of the Than family with a face like a wizened apple, wearing an expensive looking wig made of long, silvery curls and luxurious robes that always looked a little too large for his fragile frame.

He was walking on the arm of his third wife, a pretty girl with long, red hair whose age barely surpassed Liliana's own and who was showing off her luscious curves in a dress that made Liliana blush a little. As far as she knew, the girl had once been a dancer at the _Nightsong_ and her marriage to the Lord had caused a small scandal almost two years ago. Now looking at the girl's bored face, Liliana wondered briefly if the dancer had truly found what she had been looking for in this marriage or whether she already regretted her decision to become the trophy wife of a rich doter.

"Little Lily," Lord Dunbar said again enthusiastically while he was reaching for the hand she was offering him in greeting. "Just look at you, pretty as ever. Cedric is a happy lad, I always say that, don't I, Crysantheme?"

The girl did not look happy at all, casting Liliana a very sour look, but said nothing.

"Is he here?" the old man asked, looking around.

"Yes, of course," Liliana replied gently. His skin felt like sandpaper to her touch, dry and rough, and she could have counted every bone in his hand. "You must have met him at the entrance already, where he is welcoming all the guests."

"Yes, yes, of course," the lord replied, but the look in his eyes betrayed his momentary confusion. "And how are you, my dear," he finally asked, the grip of his fingers tightening around hers.

"Thank you, my lord, I am…"

"Good, good," he interrupted her with another toothy grin, patting her hand a little too intimately before he let go and turned away. "Didn't you promise to get me a drink," Liliana could hear him complain to his wife, and then simply watched the mismatched couple making their way to the bar with a sinking feeling in her heart.

Normally, she would not have thought twice about his abrupt change of topic. Lord Dunbar was an old man, after all, and got easily lost in a conversation even at the best of times.

And if it had been the first time for such a thing to happen this evening, she wouldn't have had any difficulty to let it go. But it was not, and so it was hard to keep the smile on her face while her innards once again felt as if they had turned to lead.

This barbecue had not turned into the happy and carefree event that she had hoped for. In the beginning, it had all just played out as she had imagined. When she had stepped out of her carriage and into Cedric's arms, the look on his face had made her forget all about her anger and that strange argument with Damian, the memory simply vanishing into thin air.

Her love had been stunned by her dress, she could tell, and she had felt pretty and desirable when he had smiled and kissed her hand with the words "I am a lucky man to have you, my lady."

But after that, things had quickly begun to fall apart.

The cool greeting that she had received from Cedric's parents, their sudden reserve more than a little confusing until she had noticed how people were watching her openly when they thought she wasn't looking. How people greeted her friendly when she approached them but were not quite able to meet her eyes, quickly taking their leave under only thinly veiled excuses after they had been introduced.

Even now, as she continued her way through the crowd, Liliana could see people standing together in small groups, following her with their eyes and quickly turning away when they realised that she had caught them staring.

_By the tears of Selune!_

She had been so sheltered after her abduction, and this particular topic had been so strictly avoided in her own house that the thought had actually never occurred to her that it must have caused quite a stir in Waterdeep's social circles, considering her engagement to one of the Silverton clan and the status of her own family.

Apparently, she was the gossip of the season now, and it made Liliana feel like a leper all over again, a part of her desperately wishing to simply curl up in a dark corner of the house and hide until all the guests had gone away.

_Courage, remember? You were forced to live in the hut, and came out of it alive. This pales in comparison._

_It does?_

A pained smile flickered across her face as the thought came to her mind. Who could have guessed that being here at this party could feel so much worse than being held captive in the woods?

_Back there, it was just Bishop and me… and I knew he wished me ill. Here, I have to face a whole crowd of people only pretending to care while they are probably gossiping about me right behind my back. _

It was a depressing thought, and even more so as it seemed as if Cedric's parents, too, thought that Liliana was drawing way too much attention to herself.

She finally reached the other side of the room where she had spotted Evelyn standing close to the windows that opened out to the park, scanning the crowd. Her friend smiled when she saw Liliana approaching, her eyes lingering on the luscious skirts.

"Oh Lily, is this the dress?" Evelyn asked, eyeing the fine cloth with admiration. "It looks wonderful. I bet Cedric was absolutely smitten!"

Despite everything, Liliana had to smile. "Yes, Madame Meiroth did a good job, didn't she?"

She turned a little so that Evelyn could see how the skirts were swinging with the movement, but was well aware of how much more she would have enjoyed showing off her pretty new dress if the night had not turned into quite such a disaster.

But now that she looked closer, Evelyn herself seemed not to be very happy, either. Her face was uncharacteristically pale, making her freckles stand out even more than usual, and there were shadows under her eyes.

"Did you already take a look at our bouquets?" Liliana asked in an attempt to cheer up her friend. "Cedric said that they would place them on the tables out in the garden, near the buffet. He was really impressed with your work and sends his eternal gratitude."

"How is Damian doing?" Evelyn said all of a sudden, and Liliana felt her heart grow heavy. She had feared that this would be the core of the girl's dark mood and was not certain if she was willing to talk about it.

"He is mourning, Eve," she replied as gently as she could. "But he will be fine, and I am certain that he will come around then."

Strangely enough, as she said the words, Liliana had to realise that she did not believe them to be true anymore. There had been a time where she had been certain that her brother had a soft spot for her friend, feelings that the girl obviously returned, but now that she thought about it, Liliana had to admit that she could only recall this one ride along the coast many months ago where her brother had shown any interest in Evelyn at all, being all smiles and full of witty banter. Now looking at the girl's drawn face, Liliana had to ask herself if Evelyn had not come to the same conclusion, and was severely heartbroken over it.

"Do you want something to eat?" Evelyn asked a little too cheerful, obviously sharing her friend's sudden desire to change the topic. "I could go to the buffet and fetch us some food!"

"Fine," Liliana agreed. "I will fetch us something to drink, then."

After picking up two glasses of red wine from the bar, Liliana stepped outside onto the large balcony, looking for a table. Out here, the crowd had thinned a little, many taking the opportunity for a stroll across the vast Silverton estate, and Liliana smiled when she saw that their bouquets had indeed been placed neatly in the centre of the tables for decoration. They looked lovely in the light of the lanterns, and Liliana told herself to tell Evelyn again once she came back with their plates.

In the end, she picked one of the tables at the far side of the balcony. Here, most of the tables were still unoccupied, and Liliana sighed in relief at the comparatively quiet of her surroundings as she placed the glasses of wine on the white linen, trying to make herself comfortable on a chair despite her bodice. To pass the time, she began rearranging the ivy twigs of this table's arrangement while humming a lively tune, and was caught completely by surprise when two of the tiny apples suddenly came loose and rolled onto the floor, vanishing out of her sight. With a curse, Liliana quickly got up simply to suppress another when she had to kneel down in her dress and almost crawl under the table to fetch them.

Her hand had just closed around one of them when she heard an all too familiar voice approaching.

"… know that no one wants to talk about it, but just because it might be kinder not to does not mean that the problem will simply go away."

_Jeanne._

The sinking feeling in her stomach immediately returned a thousandfold, and for a moment, Liliana silently cursed her luck. Of all the people attending this barbecue, why did she have to run into the one person she truly did _not_ want to see, and also in the very moment when she was crawling around on the floor like a servant girl, picking up apples?

"Do you not think, Jeanne, that you are taking this all a little too personal?"

This voice belonged to Nathaniel, and to Liliana's utmost horror, it sounded as if they were sitting down at the table next to her.

"Personal? My dear Nathaniel, this is _my_ family we are talking about!"

Jeanne paused, and Liliana could imagine her face clearly just by the sound of her voice, that small crease that would now form between her brows, a telltale sign of the girl's constant disapproval.

"I am her friend as much as anyone, but please, when it comes to questions of dynasty, what does it matter? I know Cedric avoids the topic, but I know that there have been talks between him and his father about the marriage."

Liliana inhaled sharply at that only to quickly hunch her shoulders afterwards, trying immediately to crawl even further under the table without as much as a sound. Anxiety gripped her, ignited both by the girl's words and her sudden fear that she had been too loud, that she would be caught eavesdropping. But Jeanne simply carried on with her speech without as much as a pause, obviously warming to the topic, leaving Liliana to listen in shocked silence.

"You have seen the people, Nathaniel, and I am certain that you have heard the same rumours I did. Under these circumstances, I think it is my duty as both friend and family to question whether this marriage should actually take place as it was planned."

Liliana could barely believe her ears, shock and disbelief slowly being replaced by a vague feeling of anger.

_Questioning the marriage? _My_ marriage?_

_What, does this actually surprise you?_ The voice in her mind sounded infuriatingly unperturbed. _What did you think why she paid Bishop to get you killed? Because you never pick the right shoes for the right occasion? _

_You know how Jeanne feels about Cedric, how furious she was that he dared to choose you over her._

Yes, she had known that, and Jeanne had made sure to remind her time and again how unbefitting she had deemed Liliana of a husband like her cousin.

_But still. This is not her decision to make. It is Cedric's, and mine!_

"You know that Cedric loves her, don't you, Jeanne?" Nathaniel replied in that deep voice of his, and Liliana felt an immense wave of gratitude well up inside her that he was actually taking her side. "He really wants to make Lily his wife."

"Yes, yes, we all know that," Jeanne replied impatiently in a voice that made Liliana quietly grind her teeth. "Of course he loves her. But please, Nathaniel – I already told it to Cedric's mother just this morning and I am telling you now that this is not about love, but reputation."

The knuckles on her hand had turned white, so tight was she clutching the apple, but Liliana barely noticed the strain as the vague anger was now beginning to boil in her blood, thawing the icy disbelief and anxiety away. How _dare_ Jeanne try to talk Cedric's parents into ending their relationship, after everything that she had made her go through?

_And to think that she always pretended to be my friend, that she liked me!_

"No one wants to speak about it, but we all know that she spent _five_ days out there in the woods… alone with these men."

Now Nathaniel sounded almost angry. "Lily said nothing about it, Jeanne, and neither should you. There is no proof that anything happened!"

The girl laughed, the brittle, affected sound sending a chill down Liliana's spine, and she swallowed hard, her throat feeling surprisingly dry all of a sudden.

"Oh, please. This is the real world, darling, and not some fancy fantasy. A young woman, out in the woods for days and all alone in a small hut with a group of unscrupulous scoundrels?"

Liliana could almost hear her shaking her head in mock distress while her own stomach clenched as painfully as the hand around the apple.

_Merciful gods, please, make them stop! I don't want to hear this any longer, I don't…_

„I know Cedric says nothing about it, but who doesn't wonder whether she's still as… untouched… as she was before?"

And there it was.

The unspeakable truth, her undying shame, the one that she had so painfully tried to hide and forget, buried in the darkest regions of her mind right along with the memories, dragged out into the open so casually that it made Liliana feel sick.

Did people really gossip about this all around her, watching her from afar and quietly wondering over veal pastries and shredded lobster if she had been… touched… while she had been away?

_Soft lips wandering over her neck, her cheek, searching for her mouth. Strong hands gliding through her hair, again and again, and then his voice, whispering roughly into her ear, his breath on her skin making her shiver._

_Always wanted to do that... always wanted to touch it... so beautiful, so soft, like silk... want you so much..._

If she had felt sick before, she was feeling positively ill now, quickly closing her eyes against a sudden wave of nausea.

_It wasn't my fault_, she thought almost desperately, _what else could I do? _

_I had no choice. No choice!_

"And who would want to talk about such an ordeal?" Jeanne went on, as unconcerned as if she was talking about the weather. "I certainly wouldn't. But of course people make up their own minds, and I can guarantee you that they will come to the same conclusion. Now be a dear and pour me some wine, will you?"

There was the soft chiming sound of glass on glass as Nathaniel complied, and then another small pause in which Jeanne was probably sipping on her drink before she continued.

"All I am saying is that Lily can be very happy to have a man like Cedric. A lesser man would most certainly have ended their engagement by now. What man of his status can actually afford to have a wife whose reputation is now soiled, becoming a liability rather than an asset?"

_A liability rather than an asset?_

_A liability?_

The words seemed to burn their way down her spine and right into her heart, only fueling her emotional turmoil. There was guilt and shame and hurt, but also a quickly growing rage that she had never experienced before, leaving no room for anything but a crazed hunger for retaliation. Liliana had not thought it possible that she could ever be able to feel so much hate, but there it was.

_How dare she?_

Not only because the girl had the gall to bad-mouth her in front of a mutual friend, but considering that it had been _Jeanne_ who had sent her through that ordeal in the first place, who had forced her to break her promise to Cedric that she would never be touched by another man and had turned her life into hell… how _dare_ that harpy now spread such poisonous half-truths herself, trying to force her and Cedric apart?

Before she even realised it, Liliana let go of the apple and stood up in a swift motion, smoothing her skirt with one hand while the other closed around her own glass of wine with enough force that it bordered on a miracle that the delicate glassware did not break right between her fingers.

Nathaniel's eyes widened in something close to shock when he noticed her, but Liliana only had eyes for Jeanne, sitting right next to him in her richly dressed and perfectly styled glory, and the friendly smile that suddenly appeared on the girl's face as she spotted Liliana was as convincing as it would have been on a priest of Cyric.

"Lily… what a _pleasant_ surprise! I was just telling Nathaniel…"

The wine hit her square in the face, the red liquid dripping down onto her cleavage and staining both her silken dress and the table cloth. Jeanne gave a surprised squeal, her own eyes widening in utmost shock and disbelief while she gaped up at Liliana towering above her.

"How _dare_ you," Liliana hissed, the rage changing her usually pleasant voice into a snarl. "How dare you say these things about me, and after everything that you've put me through?"

"This must be such a disappointment for you, isn't it, Jeanne?" Liliana went on, full of venom. There was the small voice in her head, whispering urgently into her ear that she should not be doing this, that she was attending a party and was standing in a very public place, that she should keep quiet, but her fury burned it away in an instant. "I don't know how much gold you paid him, but to see me here again, alive and breathing? And now that you could not kill _me_, you are trying to kill my reputation?"

Jeanne was still staring at her with these wide eyes, looking as if Liliana had suddenly sprouted a pair of bat wings right along with a second head. The initial shock about this scandalous behaviour seemed to wear off, however, as Liliana could see the girl frown indignantly all of a sudden, and her hands lifted in a way that clearly indicated that she wanted to start an argument.

"Excuse me, I was only…"

"_Enough!_"

The glass of wine shattered on the ground with a loud, clashing sound, and both Nathaniel and Jeanne jumped back in their chairs, obviously completely taken aback by Liliana's show of temper.

"Don't you _ever_ dare to show your face at my house again," Liliana told the girl in that voice that wasn't her own, and she experienced a rare moment of satisfaction as she saw Jeanne actually shy away from her a little, the girl's face unusually pale despite the wine and her make-up. "You are no longer welcome!"

She turned around to leave, but then stopped after a few steps, casting a last glance over her shoulder. Nathaniel and Jeanne were still sitting at the table, both watching her go in stunned silence, although Liliana thought to see an approving glint in the young man's eyes.

"You have always deluded yourself, Jeanne," she said, her voice breaking a little due to the maelstrom of emotions that was quickly threatening to overwhelm her. "It wouldn't have mattered if I had died or not. Cedric knows you for the vile creature that you are, and no matter what had happened - he would never have married _you_."

And with that, she turned around, and hurriedly left the balcony.

xxx

Her fury helped her to keep the maelstrom at bay until she had reached the garden. Then it was simply too much, Jeanne's words still ringing in her mind, and a sob was ripped from her chest as Liliana hurried deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine gardens, tears now streaming down her face while the corset of her dress made her feel like she couldn't breathe.

_That vile, treacherous evil harpy!_

To think that Jeanne actually had the audacity to play such mean tricks behind her back, especially after this whole nightmare had been _her_ doing in the first place…

_This is the real world, darling, and not some fancy fantasy. I know Cedric says nothing about it, but who doesn't wonder whether she's still as… untouched… as she was before? _

_A lesser man would most certainly have ended their engagement by now. What man of his status can actually afford to have a wife whose reputation is now soiled, becoming a liability rather than an asset?_

The words were clawing at her mind, bringing up the memories again and again although Liliana fought her hardest to keep them at bay, but it was hopeless. No matter what she tried, in front of her inner eye she saw that last encounter between Bishop and her play out again and again until she wanted to claw at her own eyes in desperation.

_Please, merciful gods, make it stop!_

_I don't want to remember it. I don't want to remember _him_. I'm so sick of the hurt, so sick of the guilt…_

But even knowing that she had had no other choice, and that the trick she had played that last night in the hut was probably the only reason why she was still alive today couldn't keep another wave of guilt rising from deep within her, threatening to drown her.

Finally, she sat down on a small bench in the outer regions of the garden, the small alcove surrounded by large hedges and blooming azalea, trying to calm her breathing, but it was almost impossible to calm her troubled mind.

_He did not want to kiss me. Not once, since I returned._

Could it be that Jeanne had actually said the truth? The Silvertons were one of the most influential families of Waterdeep, having ties to all the important aristocratic clans of the Sword Coast… could it be that Cedric had heard the rumours as well and was now having doubts about his proposal, that he was searching for a way to end their engagement without hurting her feelings?

That thought pierced her like a needle through her heart, and the tears that had slowly ebbed away rose anew, making her sob while she searched her dress for the handkerchief that she carried in the secret pocket hidden in the vast folds of her skirt, the very fresh memory of her argument with Jeanne not actually helping to ease her mind.

_Gods, I made a scene. Tonight, on Cedric's barbecue!_

No matter how justified her anger had been, Liliana had to admit that she had handled the whole situation very poorly. Even under different circumstances, the Silvertons wouldn't have thought kindly about her losing her temper in front of one of their own, and Liliana found it hard to imagine that they would like it any better in times like these, when all eyes were on Liliana already.

_Gods, my parents will be so disappointed…_

Her neck began to prickle uncomfortably all of a sudden, and Liliana looked up, surprised. A shiver was running down her spine, and she twitched, suddenly noticing that the chirping of the cicada had stopped, at least in this part of the labyrinth.

"Hello?" She asked as she hastily wiped the tears from her face, almost certain that she was being watched… but the garden remained quiet, and only the distant sounds of talking and laughter drifting with the wind disturbed the peace of the night.

"Lily?"

The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard, and Liliana's heart gave a painful leap as she recognised the voice.

_Cedric._

Her hurt returned with a vengeance, making her chest feel tight, and all thoughts about being watched vanished from her mind as she sprang to her feet, quickly making her way over the gravel into the direction of his voice.

She did not have to walk far – just behind the next hedge she could see him, walking towards her, his expression concerned. He smiled when he spotted her, and strangely enough, seeing him smile at her like that made her hurt only more, her throat feeling so tight now that she almost feared to suffocate.

"Is it true?" She shouted with much more force than she had planned as soon as she had reached him, the pain in her heart making her feel like she was slowly ripped in two.

"What… Lily?" Cedric asked, looking aghast by her sudden outburst.

"Is it true?" She shouted again. "Is that why you won't touch me? Do you wish to take it all back, because you think that I am so…soiled?"

Her voice broke, and she sobbed again, not quite certain whether the tears that now streamed down her face were induced by rage or pain. Either way, she did not want him to see her like this, and so Liliana hastily turned away, trying to stifle her sobs.

Quick footsteps brought him to her side, and then she was pulled tightly into his embrace, her head now resting firmly against his chest while his hand cradled her head.

"Shh," Cedric whispered quietly as he pulled her even tighter against him. "Don't cry, love. I'm here. I'm here."

For a moment, she tensed in his arms, a part of her feeling ashamed for her bad manners. But then his scent surrounded her, so familiar and soothing, and she closed her own arms tightly around his chest as she leaned into his embrace, relishing the feeling of being so close to him, of his hands running softly through her hair.

_He still wants to hold me. I did all these awful things, and he still wants to hold me!_

"What was this all about?" Cedric asked when her tears had finally ebbed away, his voice gentle.

"Jeanne," Liliana stated in a small voice, her throat still rough from her sobbing. She sniffed, and a part of her was glad that she was still pressed tightly against his chest, so that she did not have to look him in the eyes. "She said that… that after what happened, you… you might not want to marry me anymore."

She felt him stiffen at her words, and his voice sounded much sharper than before.

"That is not true. In fact, nothing could be farther from the truth." He gently lifted her chin to make her look up at him, and Liliana's heart ached when she saw him smile lovingly at her, his dark eyes glittering in the light of Selune.

"I love you," Cedric stated gently, his voice sending a warm shiver down her spine. "I cannot wait to be your husband."

"But… you did not even _try_ to kiss me," Liliana said still in that small voice, confusion mingling with the tingling feeling of relief now dancing in her belly as she looked into his eyes. "I mean… _really_ kiss me since I came back. Not once."

His hand in her hair stopped its soothing strokes for a moment, and Liliana frowned, her confusion deepening as she noticed his sudden discomfort.

"Lily… what you have been through… I cannot even imagine how hard it must have been. I… you don't have to tell me what happened, unless you want to. But I thought that… maybe after all this privations, you would not want to be touched."

She blinked, not certain whether she had understood him correctly. Then a wave of joy welled up inside her – joy that he still loved her, that he had only meant to shield her from more harm, and she couldn't help but to smile at him, the first carefree smile in what felt like days.

"Stupid Cedric," she whispered gently, cupping his soft cheeks with her hand. "I _love_ you. How could I _not_ want you to touch me?" Her voice tensed noticeably. "That time in the woods… it was an ordeal. The thought of seeing you again, of being with you again… it was all that kept me going."

Her heart gave a guilty pang at her words, as if her conscience wanted to remind her that this was just one side of the truth, but Liliana resolutely fought the treacherous images that tried to rise in front of her inner eye once more.

_It is done_, she thought vehemently. _I won't think about it ever again. I won't think about _him_ ever again_. _Not about his laugh, or the hunt, or… whatever. Never again_. And as if to seal this thought, she stood up on her toes to pull Cedric towards her, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, waiting for the by now familiar fire to consume her, like it had done in the hut.

She was only feeling the first sparks of desire gently warming her blood as Cedric already broke the kiss, both their breathing quickened noticeably.

"Love," he murmured gently, and Liliana felt strangely pleased that his voice sounded much rougher than before. "We must stop."

A thought came suddenly to her mind, unexpected and unwelcome, and it made her frown with doubt and confusion. "Did you… did you not like it?"

She did not have that much experience with _real_ kissing, after all. Maybe she was doing it wrong? But Cedric just chuckled, his voice warm and full of amusement, and the sparks in her belly seemed to multiply at the rich sound.

"Oh, no," Cedric smiled, his thumbs caressing her cheek. "Actually, I loved it. But I fear this is neither the right time nor place for… this."

He kissed her again, but slow and gentle this time, and a part of Liliana felt like she wanted to wring her hands in frustration. She had heard words like these before, on the day Bishop had abducted her from the picnic in the woods, and just like then, they filled her with some kind of helpless resentment.

"Soon we'll be married,", Cedric said as he leaned back, his hands still cupping her cheeks. "Then we will have all the time in the world."

_Oh yes. I definitely heard these words before._

But things had changed since then. She was no girl anymore, pouting at his rejection, but she had sworn to herself that she would not simply wait for him to understand that she wanted to be with him again.

"Soon we'll be married?" Liliana replied, trying hard to keep the resentment and disappointment out of her voice, trying to appeal to reason. She _had_ changed during these days in the woods, after all. She would not act like a child anymore. "Cedric, you almost make it sound like I am talking about something wrong. Why are we always talking about waiting?"

He suddenly wasn't able to meet her eye. "I know, love, but there are… rules."

"_Rules_?" She asked incredious, her control on her indignation slipping. "I am of age now, Cedric - and so are you. What kind of rules are these that they make it sound like there is something wrong about a woman being with her lover?"

"This is childish. I am of age now, and we are engaged, so don't tell me it is not appropriate. I _need_ you, love. And I don't want to wait until our wedding night to be with you again."

She kissed him again, her hands now buried in his soft hair, feeling like she should leave no doubt about the sincerity of her invitation.

"Will you come for me tonight?" She therefore asked when she broke the kiss, her voice husky.

"Love…," Cedric began, looking uncomfortable, and so Liliana quickly went on.

"My parents are gone for the night and won't return before dinner. Everyone will be sleeping… no one will notice."

_And even if they do… I couldn't care less._

"Please," she pleaded, pulling him in for another kiss. _Please… help me to forget. Make me feel whole again._

"Fine," he finally replied as she let go of him, his smile returning quickly. "I am your humble servant, remember? If you insist, how could I do anything but to obey?" Her eyes lit up at these words, her heart already beginning to quiver with joy and anticipation as Cedric went on in a firm voice:

"But not tonight, my love."

That put a forceful damper on her freshly risen spirits. "But… why?"

Cedric sighed.

"Lily, this is my parents' barbecue. I will have to stay up until the last of our guests is gone, and judging by the amount of punch that Lord Amcathra is drinking, it could take a while to coax him into leaving... especially now that his wife enjoys it so much to show their happy marriage to a certain red-haired lady."

Cedric winked, obviously trying to lighten the mood with his comment about an ill-tempered Myrna Cassalanter, but Liliana did not feel like laughing at all. He obviously sensed her disappointment, for his expression sobered noticeably while his smile grew tender.

"Lily… please do not think for a moment that I do not want to make love to you. Gods help me, right now with you in my arms, I want nothing more than to take you up on your offer." His voice was calm, soothing. "But please understand that I cannot neglect my duties to my family. Another night, my love, and soon – I promise."

"Fine," she said, trying to sound sympathetic and understanding, like a good wife should. Of course he was right. It would be childish to expect him to shun his duties just to be with her, and as she had stated before – she was no child anymore. She would not pout, or scream, or make a scene like she had back in the woods.

What a difference did a few more days make, really? She could wait, after all.

But it was hard to keep her answering smile steady and gentle while at the same time battling the vast feeling of disappointment that was now filling her chest, feeling the sparks of her desire fizzle and die.

_Bishop wouldn't have waited_.

That thought came unbidden to her mind as Cedric pulled her back against his chest to gently resume the stroking of her hair, but now that she had thought about it, she couldn't just keep her mind from wandering.

_If I had been Riana, and had asked him to… well, to do _that_, he wouldn't have waited._

Liliana tensed at that trail of thought, the speed of her heart picking up noticeably as she cringed in Cedric's arms, suddenly feeling like she had been caught redhanded, doing something naughty.

What in the Nine Hells was she thinking?

He was a thug, and a murderer. How could her mind _dare_ to compare him to her Cedric, who was so kind and understanding, and all that a woman could actually hope for? And besides, had she not sworn to herself never to think about Bishop again?

_He's nothing compared to my Cedric_, Liliana thought vehemently while closing her arms even more tightly around her fiancé, as if she wanted to prove her point by her actions. _Nothing at all_.

_And still you dreamed of _him_, coming to you in that passageway, touching you while all Cedric did was watch. Where is that fire now, Liliana? Where?_

_Shut up_, she hissed at the soft voice in her head, pressing her face even closer against Cedric's chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave, her eyes tightly shut. _That was not real. A dream. It meant nothing. Nothing at all_.

Once more the sound of distant laughter drifted through the park, and Cedric leaned back with a smile, his hand still caressing her head.

"I think we should go back now, love," he murmured gently, his fingers gliding slowly through her hair to wander lovingly over her cheek. "We will be missed."

The cold lump that she had forgotten during their talk churned uncomfortably in her belly once more, and Liliana sighed heavily as her mind returned to the memory of Jeanne's shocked and wine-drenched face, slowly turning into many faces, all watching her with that painful mixture of curiosity and pity.

"Can we not simply leave for a little while?" She murmured without really thinking, her arms still wound tightly around Cedric's chest. "I don't want to go back to that place, to these people."

Cedric chuckled.

"I am sorry, love," he grinned, and the sparkles in his eyes sent another wave of longing through her, quickly followed by sadness. "I understand your predicament, but I fear we have no choice."

He kissed her affectionately on her forehead. "Be brave, love. We will see this through, no matter what."

A thought suddenly came to her mind, ignited by his words, and the beat of her heart quickened noticeably as she looked up into Cedric's smiling face, the icy feeling in her stomach thawing with sudden anticipation.

"No, honestly – why don't we leave for a little while?"

Excitement welled through her, and so she went on, only half-noticing the sudden frown on his face.

"We could go right after the wedding. We could travel around the Sword Coast, to Baldur's Gate or… or to Silverymoon, or Yartar."

Cedric sighed, a heavy sound as if they had been discussing this very topic over and over again.

"Lily, you know I cannot leave. There is still much I have to learn before I can take over our family business, and father needs my help."

His unexpected resistance threatened to spoil her mood once again, but Liliana was unwilling to let go of her thoughts so quickly. Here it was, the silver lining on the horizon that would take her mind away from it all, helping her to put things back into perspective, and she would be damned if she gave up on it so easily.

"I know that, Cedric, but… why not leave the city for your apprenticeship, then? Damian spent half a year with one of father's associates in Neverwinter to learn more about the trade."

His eyebrows were still drawn tightly together, usually a clear sign of his disapproval, and so she gave him her best charming smile, her voice becoming soft and persuasive as she continued.

"What about the Moonshaes, then? You said that you got along well with Gryffyn and the other merchants of the delegation, that it would be interesting to spent more time with them, to learn their way of thinking. We could go there for at least a month or two, on our honeymoon."

If Cedric's expression had been disapproving before, it became downright icy at her latest comment.

"Sailing to the Moonshaes is not like a fancy ride for a picnic, Lily," he stated indignantly. "Pirates still haunt these waters, and I won't put my wife in danger by forcing her to accompany me on such travels."

Was it normal for a bride to want to throttle her groom even before the wedding? A part of her was fairly certain that this was not the case, but Liliana felt the sudden desire nonetheless, her hands twitching with the urge to reach for his vest and shake him thoroughly for being so… stupid.

"But you are not forcing me, Cedric." Her voice got louder, exasperated. "I _want_ to go there, to see the world. Why do you think I want to become a bard?"

He moaned and rolled his eyes, his own voice rising in volume as he hissed:

"Oh, not that bard thing again!"

It felt as if he was suddenly twisting a knife in her heart. For a moment, Liliana could do nothing but gape up at him, her eyes wide while it felt as if her innards were slowly coated with a thin layer of ice.

"What do you mean with that?" She finally asked, her voice trembling ever so little. Cedric seemed to have realised his mistake, for his face was now showing the strangest expression, somewhere between guilt and annoyance. He reached for her face, gently stroking her cheeks, but if he had intended to soothe her with that gesture, strangely enough it seemed to have quite the opposite effect.

"Lily, love – I know that you have been through a lot lately, and I can understand how it must have upset you… but I hardly recognise you these days." His voice got softer, almost pleading for her understanding. "First you suddenly spent all your free time at the Font of Knowledge and are talking nonsense about becoming a bard, now you want to accompany me on travels that are simply not fit for a lady?"

She listened to his tirade, her face a stiff mask of acceptance, but inwardly she was seething while indignation burned strong in her blood, hot and fierce.

_Nonsense, is it now? Not fit for a lady?_

To think that _he_ of all people would say these words to her, he who should be supporting her or at least _try_ to understand her… that he seemed genuinely baffled at the very idea of an educated woman wanting to be more than simply a wife did not help her hurt feelings at all.

_A flower, just as prissy, fragile and useless as you are. Good for nothing but decoration._

"There are women amongst both the sailors _and_ the merchants, Cedric," she replied coolly. "How can that travel be not fit for a lady?"

He hesitated, obviously struggling for words. "You are… you will be my wife then, Lily, and a noblewoman. That is different."

Now it was her turn to huff indignantly.

"Different, yes? Well, maybe I don't want to be a lady then. I am no… no little girl that you have to protect, or that will faint at the slightest hint of hardship." In her mind, she could see _him_ smirking at her again as he had said these words, belittling her because of her upbringing, because of her supposed weakness, and felt something snap inside her. "I escaped the hut on my own and found my way home, Cedric. I am not weak!"

Her sudden vehemence seemed to take him by surprise, and he tried to pull her back into a tight embrace, sensing her growing anger, but she did not let him.

"Lily, love, I never meant…"

"Can you not understand how much it pains me to stay here?" She heatedly went on, cutting off what would most likely be another half-hearted attempt to appease her. "Jeanne may be the only one in that room who is nasty enough to speak her thoughts right into my face, but I can see it in their eyes, Cedric. They are _all_ watching me, all wondering what happened to me during that week, gossiping behind my back… but they still smile when I talk to them. It makes me sick!"

Hurt was welling up inside her, battling the anger already swirling in her chest, making her voice softer, almost pleading.

"I just want to leave it all behind, at least for a little while. Can you not understand that?"

His expression told her clearly that he could not, but it was obvious that he was still trying to soothe things between them as he continued to speak.

_As if I was a child that will start hurling heavy objects in his direction if he says the wrong thing_, Liliana thought sourly.

„I spoke with Deliah about it. She thinks that I have talent, Cedric, that I could actually become a real bard if I studied very hard. It would not be in vain!"

"Deliah likes you, Lily," Cedric replied, his voice very soft, as if he was telling a sad truth to a young child. "Of course she would say such a thing."

That left her speechless for a moment. "What?" She finally managed to say, not willing to believe her ears.

_Did he just imply that Deliah told me a lie, just to spare my feelings?_

"But this is not the right time to talk about such things," he simply went on, obviously insensitive to Liliana's growing anger. „Let's go back to the party, and we will talk about it in a few days, once things have calmed down and you have settled in again – I promise."

He offered her his arm, giving her his best consoling smile… and there was something in his face, in his posture that made all the anger and frustration that had slowly accumulated over the evening finally come to a boil.

So Liliana took a deep breath, and her face was set into a cool mask of indifference as she willingly stepped back, out of his reach.

"I am sorry, Cedric, but I fear I have to refuse."

He frowned, obviously taken by surprise. "But… are you not coming back with me?"

She watched how his eyes opened in something close to shock, and couldn't help to feel strangely bitter as his shock gave way to hurt, and then to unmasked disapproval.

„Lily, please, you must see reason here. Keep in mind how that would look, considering the rather... dramatic circumstances of your departure."

His words galled her even more than she had thought possible.

_I have to see reason now, have I?_

_You treated me like a child all evening, belittling me and everything that I told you. So if you want to see me as a disobedient child… you shall get it. _

And if he valued etiquette and rules about everything else… he would get that, too.

"Well, it seems obvious that I lost my reason right along with my common sense, considering all these _strange habits_ that I have been developing lately. So please give your parents my deepest regrets, but the weather makes me feel poorly. I just want to go home… and rest."

Cedric frowned at the mock severity in her voice, his lips now pressed to a thin line, his eyes watching her coolly as if he gazed upon her truly for the first time - and did not like what he saw. For a moment, Liliana hoped that he would shout at her for acting so childishly, that he would not let her get away with this, that he would step away from the world of protocol and demanded that she stayed, anything to cross that sudden gap between them… but Cedric just nodded, accepting her polite insult with a stony expression on his face.

"Do you need me to see you home?" He even asked rather stiffly, disapproval making his voice sharper than usual.

She watched his face, his angry posture, and suddenly wished for nothing but to lay down and rest, to let sleep carry her towards sweet oblivion and away from the emotional turmoil that seemed to have become her life, at least for a little while.

"No, thank you," Liliana replied equally stiff as she lifted her skirts to walk back towards the mansion, her voice so cold that she barely recognised it herself. "I understand that you cannot simply shirk your duties to your family… and I am more than capable to find my coach on my own."

xxx

The ride back home was nothing short of miserable. Liliana was sitting in the dark compartment, watching the sleeping city roll by, and could not even put a name to the turmoil that was raging inside her chest. Anger, hurt, disappointment… all churning in her belly and boiling in her blood as she relived their conversation in her mind again and again until she felt like she was about to explode, just like a kettle.

But the worst feeling of all was the guilt.

How could things have gotten so out of hand? She had not meant to get so angry with Cedric, to make them part on such uneasy terms. The memory of his cold gaze when they had parted, how stiff he had held himself when he had helped her into the carriage… to think that she had been hungering for this night for days, barely able to hide her excitement whenever she had thought about it, just to have it end in such a fashion…

But that renewed wave of guilt was quickly followed by anger. How _dared_ he treat her like this? She was no child, no little weakling that would just be waiting for him at home and embroider cushions or curtains while her husband went on with his every-day life, or would start to redecorate all the rooms in his parents' house once they were married while waiting to get heavy with child, and raise a bunch of well-bred heirs.

It had never seemed so clearly to her before that this was obviously the kind of life that Cedric was imagining for the two of them – no troubles, no excitement, and certainly nothing for her but being a devoted wife and mother for the rest of her life. The very idea filled her with something close to resentment right now, and that was strange, considering that it had never bothered her before. They had been engaged for… what, almost three months? And all that time she had been so happy and excited that Cedric had proposed, and that he loved her - because he had clearly been everything that she had been waiting for from the first day that they had met, so many years ago.

Or… was he?

It was true that Cedric had never tried to deny that this was the kind of life he was imagining for them, and although Liliana could not really put a word to it why it was suddenly disturbing her so, it did not change the fact how dismissively he had treated her concerns and wishes, how he had belittled her problems and dreams, making it clear as the day that he did not take her thoughts and feelings seriously.

_I cannot live like this. It's not so much about becoming a bard… I don't have to be one. I can be his wife, and a good mother… but I _need_ to see more of the world! Life has to be more than attending tea parties and picnics… that's simply not enough. _

But if all of a sudden being his wife was not enough anymore… what did that mean for her future?

xxx

Old Jebediah gave her a toothy if a little sleepy smile when he opened the iron gate to the compound, his white hair and beard all askew as if he had just fought a bunch of harpies in his sleep. Under normal circumstances, Liliana would have had a hard time to keep a grin off her face, but this time the very familiar sight of the old gatekeeper seemed only to add to her misery, and so she barely managed an answering smile and a gentle nod of her head before the carriage moved past the gate and onto the gravel path that led up to the mansion.

The house was dark when she arrived, and only the night servant was awake to greet her as she entered the great hall, taking her coat and handing her a light before wishing her a good night and retreating back to his chamber. For a moment, she stood at the flight of stairs that led up to her bedroom, her eyes staring up into the dark, but Liliana knew that no matter how tired she might feel right now, all these emotions still churning in her belly would never allow her to sleep properly… and the thought of lying in her dark bedroom while her thoughts were still chasing each other in her mind was simply unbearable. So with a heavy sigh, she turned around and quickly crossed the hall to walk down the narrow corridor that led to the mansion's kitchen.

Even at night, the kitchen was a place that seemed to emanate feelings of warmth and shelter, and Liliana felt herself relax a bit when she placed the light carefully on the large wooden table in the centre of the room before beginning her hunt for the ingredients that she had in mind.

It took her a little while to find all the things that she was looking for. Adele the cook had always felt a bit uncomfortable with having the children of her employers playing in her kitchen, and in retrospect Liliana really could not blame her. It had never occurred to her as a girl that the cook might be getting in trouble for showing the young daughter of the house how to prepare a chicken for dinner, or how to make soup. But once she had realised that her mother had repeatedly expressed her opinion on said matter, she had simply stopped visiting the kitchen unless there was something she had wanted to order… which meant that she had no idea anymore where the staff kept the special food, or the pots.

"You are back already?"

Liliana jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, almost banging her head on the wooden shelf she was kneeling in front of as she turned around to see the slim form of Nerdanel standing in the doorway, carrying a small light of her own. The dressing-gown and long linen shirt underneath showed clearly that the older woman had already been to bed, and still her hair was pinned up in the trim, neat bun that Liliana knew so well. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, merciful gods… Nedda, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

The lips of the governess twitched ever so slightly as she stepped closer to place her candle right beside the other light on the table. "I am sorry, child – I did not mean to disturb you. But I heard the carriage arrive, and I was wondering what you were doing down here in the kitchen."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she studied her protégé still kneeling on the floor.

"Did you have a pleasant evening?"

"Well, I… I just haven't slept well these past nights, and so I thought about making me a hot milk with honey... to make it better", Liliana replied quietly, deliberately avoiding the question. Feeling a bit awkward under Nerdanel's scrutinizing stare, she quickly returned her attention to the shelf and fetched the small pot that she had been looking for, inhaling deeply when she finally got back onto her feet.

_Damn these corsets. How are we women supposed to breathe in these?_

"Let me help you with this," Nerdanel stated gently, placing the copper pot on the hearth and then igniting a fire while Liliana fetched some milk from the cooling chamber in the cellar.

"Well, tell me, child," Nerdanel said once they were watching the flames dance lively around the pot, warming the milk. "Is everything alright? You look… troubled."

Liliana sighed. If she was honest to herself, she wanted nothing more than to simply banish all the memories of the barbecue from her mind so that she would never have to think about them again. But this was Nerdanel who was watching her with that a little too knowing look, her closest companion since her childhood days, and she did not like to lie to her governess. "It is nothing, really. It is just that… it was not a pleasant evening."

Nerdanel frowned at that, showed by nothing more than a subtle tensing of her elegant eyebrows. "What happened?"

Liliana couldn't suppress a bitter laugh. "You mean besides Jeanne calling me a hussy right behind my back and Cedric and I having a row afterwards about whether I will ever be more than a devoted wife in my life or not?"

_Not to mention that I made a terrible scene on the balcony…_

There was a sharp intake of breath.

"She called you a _what_?" Nerdanel asked in an eerie voice that was way too calm. Liliana shot her governess a questioning glance, and was startled to see that the woman was glaring right at her, her whole body rigid while her eyes seemed to glow dangerously in the light of the hearth. It reminded Liliana of the rumors that the staff was whispering every now and then behind Nerdanel's back, of how the half-elf had once been trained as a sorceress but had never finished her education, for reasons that were her own.

Since Liliana had never seen the woman cast a single spell in her entire life, she had simply dismissed the gossip for the quiet grumblings of some young girls who had been at the receiving end of Nerdanel's sharp tongue when they weren't doing their job properly. But now that she could feel the cold anger emanate from the woman's tense form in rippling waves, Liliana found it not so hard to believe anymore.

"Look, this isn't really about Jeanne," she replied hastily in a sudden attempt to ease the tension that seemed to brew in the kitchen like a lightning storm. "This is more about… Cedric and I had an argument, Nedda."

Her misery returned along with the memories, and with a quiet huff Liliana sat down on the table, her eyes now staring gloomily into the flames.

"I just don't know what to make of him anymore. I told him that I just want to get away from it all for a while – from the people and how they are watching me, always whispering behind my back… it is driving me insane!"

"So I suggested that we could go away for a little while, maybe leave for his apprenticeship. But all he did about that was getting all stiff and stubborn and telling me that this was not proper for a lady, as if the very _idea_ of becoming a bard or anything besides a devoted wife was already ridiculous!"

Now that she was actually talking about their argument, her anger returned right along with the pain, her voice steadily gaining in volume, and so Liliana looked up in surprise when she heard Nerdanel's quiet chuckle as the woman sat down beside her, the sharp glare in her eyes already thawing.

"Your Cedric is a nobleman, child – they have… peculiar ideas about things sometimes."

Liliana sighed again. "Yes, I know. Maybe it is not even that."

She swallowed, not certain how to talk about this.

"I want him to _kiss_ me, Nedda," she finally went on, the familiar longing piercing her like a fiery needle through her heart. "But he does not want to. And… every time I tell him that I… that I love him and that I want to be with him, he is just getting all stiff and polite."

She huffed once more, a strangely helpless sound. "Why does he always have to be so kind and polite with me, Nedda? I don't want him to act so proper. I want him to kiss me and to take me into his arms, to tell me that he loves me!"

Her hands were now playing with the folds of her skirt, twirling the fine cloth angrily between her fingers. "He is saying it, yes, but I just can't see it! There are no sparks whenever we are together, no fire. There is just… I don't know," she finished, somewhat helplessly. "I really don't know."

Nerdanel's smile was gentle as she replied.

"Child, I know that at your age this is probably difficult for you to understand, but remember that love is not always as they make it sound in stories and fairy tales. It is a very precious thing, and different for all of us. I have no doubt that your Cedric loves you deeply, but that does not necessarily mean that he must always kiss or act with passion."

_Playing with fire will get you burned, mousie._

_She could see the light flicker on his mahogany hair and felt the weight of his body, pressing her down onto the blanket. His arms were pulling her even closer against him, his mouth ravaging hers, and when he drew back slightly, there was a fire in his eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. He was staring at her with such an intensity that it startled her, as if there was nothing else in the world that mattered to him right now, nothing else to desire… _

"Not all men kiss without passion," she replied without thinking, not certain what to make of the wild mix of emotions that was suddenly raging through her.

"Indeed?" Nerdanel had gotten up again to slowly stir the milk in the pot and used this moment to cast her protégé a sharp glance over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised quizzically.

"So I take it that you… actually know someone who does kiss with more passion?"

It felt as if all colour was suddenly draining from her face.

"_What?_"

Merciful gods, would she always be the sheep that had to catch up with its own tongue when it was already too late? And why did her mind have to play such tricks on her, allowing the memories of Bishop to sneak in whenever she needed them the least?

"I… No! Of course not," she stammered, desperately searching for words while it felt as if her cheeks had spontaneously burst into flames from embarrassment. "It's just that… I mean Nathaniel and Utha… I once walked into them in a hallway and – it was _completely_ by accident – it didn't look like… I mean it was… oh, you know what I mean!"

Nerdanel seemed to know indeed, judging by the amused look on her face, and Liliana quickly averted her gaze, her face still burning.

Oh, the humiliation!

"I just cannot believe that _all_ stories must have been made up," she murmured to no one in particular, her eyes now fixed firmly on the tip of her shoes peaking out from under her wide skirt. Luckily for her, Nerdanel did not press the subject and continued to add slowly dripping honey to the steaming milk instead, keeping her silence for a little while.

"Child, your Cedric is still very young," she finally continued in her calm, measured voice. "And just like I said – I do not have the slightest doubt that he truly loves you." Liliana cast her a quick glance from beneath her lashes and found that the woman was still watching her with a serious expression on her face, one hand casually turning a spoon in the pot.

"Marriage is not only and always about happy things, child. Love is a gift, yes, but marriage, in fact, is hard work. One must be patient and understanding with each other, but if you do love one another, I am certain that you will find a way."

She paused for a moment to lift the spoon to her lips to take a sip, then asked Liliana to hand her one of the mugs from a shelf behind her back.

"Your Cedric might come from a family that has certain traditions, but I am convinced that there is nothing in the world that he would not do to see you happy," Nerdanel stated while filling the milk carefully from the pot into the mug and then handing it to Liliana with a smile, her voice now soothing and gentle.

"Drink your hot milk, child, go to bed, get a good night's sleep… and in a day or two, when things have settled down, you will talk to Cedric. Tell him what you have told me now, that you want your life to be more but that you understand his feelings and want to find a compromise - and I think that you will be more than surprised by his reaction."

For a moment, Liliana could not speak, her chest feeling surprisingly tight all of a sudden. Then a great wave of love and gratitude welled through her, miraculously calming her emotional turmoil, and with a smile, she leaned forward to give her governess a quick peck on her cheek, careful not to spill hot milk in the process.

"Thank you, Nedda. What would I do without you?"

The woman chuckled. "Still be waiting for your hot milk, I would imagine." Her hand felt warm and dry when she raised it to caress Liliana's cheek in a rare gesture of affection. "Now, child, off to bed - and good night!"

_Maybe Nedda is right_, Liliana thought as she made her way through the great hall and up the stairs towards her room, sipping on her milk every now and then. Maybe things didn't look so dire, after all. Cedric hadn't given her an outright no to her demand, had he? He had just said that he could not come for her tonight, and she could understand that.

She paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, surprised to see that the lights were still on in Damian's room. It was not difficult for her to imagine why he could not find any sleep, and so she stood there for a moment fighting with indecision, wondering whether she should pay him another visit no matter how miffed she still felt because of his unfair accusations, simply to see whether she could help to lighten his mood just as Nedda had lightened hers.

But then, it was probably better to give him some space, to let him deal with his grief in his own way and to calm down again before she approached him once more.

_I will have to be more patient with Cedric_, Liliana mused as she continued down the hall towards her room. Nedda had been absolutely right. A marriage was about compromises, after all, so that was what they would have to do!

Feeling a lot better now that she had finally calmed the emotional turmoil in her chest and had an idea of how to proceed from here, Liliana crossed the last remaining steps towards her room, cursing quietly under her breath when it took her a while to open the door with her hands full… and was shocked when she felt a hand closing roughly over her mouth the very moment she crossed the threshold, pulling her back sharply into a crushing embrace.

Her hands let go of both the mug and her light instinctively as she grabbed for the hand holding her fast, but the carpet dimmed the clanking as both the candle and the mug fell on the floor, her light giving a last hissing sound before it got out, cloaking the room in shadow.

For a moment, she could hear nothing but the sharp sound of her own quick breath, her eyes staring wildly into the dark. Then she felt the shape behind her move a little, and it felt as if her heart was going to stop from sheer fright when she suddenly heard a very familiar voice hissing softly into her ear, the words cutting her like the edge of a knife.

"Did you really think you could run from me, little mouse?"


	11. House Call

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

_I know I owe some of you a very overdue answer. Sorry for that. I'll be going on holiday tomorrow, and Kaana and me wanted to post this before. I will answer when I get back._

_The little one will start going to Kindergarten in a few weeks, and hopefully things will get better then, including our updating ;)_

* * *

With long, hasty strides, his mouth pressed together in a thin line, Bishop made his way back through the nightly streets of Waterdeep, back to the boathouse.

What the heck was going on with him? Was he going bloody mad? All these moments of confusion he experienced had to mean he was losing his marbles, no? That moment with the whore, for example, the moment he had nearly called out the wrong name. Or when he had been fucking the whore in the alley, hard, quick, brutal thrusts, as if to punish her. Only wasn't her he wanted to punish. Wasn't her he imagined ramming himself into.

And worst of all, that moment, back in the maze, where he had completely lost it for a second, nearly getting up to take her into his arms.

Take her into his arms, for the gods' sake!

All he was supposed to do to her was break her stupid neck!

And after that… when she kissed that freaking milksop she was so besotted with… no, he would not even think of it.

No lying to himself. He _had_ been losing his marbles.

But no more. _No more_.

Tonight, now, he would do what he came here to do. Get the boat, row over the lake, snatch the girl. Get it over with, and then, all of that would go away.

Yes.

xxx

Back in the mansion's park, he passed a surprised dog with only a cursory pat to the head, went straight to the oak growing next to her balcony and quickly climbed it, by now knowing very well which limbs to use.

Another sign he had been going bonkers. _How_ often had he sat in this tree, watching her…?

Grimly, he jumped the short distance to her balcony, making no sound as he landed on his feet.

She even had left her door open, to let the night air in. Feeling safe, obviously, behind her walls and dogs and guards and family. Should have known better. Nothing kept Bishop out, if he wanted in. Nothing.

Well, least of all a balcony door. So she might as well leave it open, after all.

He grinned at that thought, amusement getting the better of his gloom for a moment, then he looked around, taking in the room.

The large balcony providing a view over the lush park surrounding the manor, the large four-poster bed with the lacy curtains, the thick, fluffy carpet covering the floor, the enormous wardrobe that probably held dozens of pretty dresses, the dressing table with the large, three part mirror, holding brushes, combs, laces and uncounted bottles and flasks and jars containing all that stuff women seemed to think so important, the sweet smell of perfume and glamour wafting in the air - it was a girl's room, no mistake about that. The room of a girl that had never wanted for anything in her life.

He smiled grimly. Well, some things were about to change. Her life would get very interesting very soon. And very short, too. But not too short, he wanted to enjoy this.

Now, where should he hide? Would not do to be caught unawares, lurking in her room, and no telling how long she would stay at that sodding party. Now that she had gotten her precious Cedric to kiss her and all. Maybe the dunce would even forget his corkbrained scruples and…

Well. None of his business.

Shoving the thought away, Bishop decided to simply wait behind the door. It would hide him from a cursory glance, but at the same time he could grab the girl from behind as soon as she entered the door, without having to wiggle from his hiding place, giving her time to scream.

No. Behind the door was best. And if someone else should happen to discover him… well. Their bad.

So he settled behind the door, closing his eyes and concentrating on his hearing, prepared to wait for a couple of hours.

But he did not have to wait for long. Much sooner than expected, he heard footsteps approach, someone climbing a stair, obviously. The steps paused for a moment and then proceeded, to stop in front of the door again. Bishop tensed as a hand fumbled with the doorknob, a female voice mumbling something in a low tone. _Her_ voice.

Bishop's eyebrows shot up. Obviously, she had not stayed long after he left the park. Did that mean the kissing had not worked out as she'd hoped...?

The thought had him grinning from ear to ear with grim satisfaction.

Then the door opened, and the princess entered, the light of the candle she was carrying making the silvery curls of her hair glimmer in a warmer tone, nearly golden.

His throat felt tight all of a sudden, the grin wiped from his face. He had not seen her this close since the night she had left him at the floor of the cabin.

Naked. Drunk. Duped.

The thought helped a lot to disperse the strange, wistful feeling that had threatened to rise again, as it had so often these days.

This had to end. Like now.

The girl took another step into the room and started turning to shut the door. Bishop took two quick steps behind her, grabbing her, pinning her arms against her body with one arm and clamping the other hand over her mouth to silence her while he shoved the door closed with a backward kick of his foot.

The candle and a mug she had been carrying tumbled to the floor, the candle hissing shortly before it went out, the mug spilling hot liquid in its fall. The girl jumped, making a surprised, muffled noise and started struggling, but he held her in an iron grip, feeling a grim triumph at having her at his mercy at last.

„Did you _really_ think you could run from me, little mouse?", he whispered into her ear, his voice dripping with scorn.

She gasped when she heard him, and froze.

He felt the anger and hatred that always lurked under the surface these days going from a slow simmer to a boil. This spoiled child had played him in the worst way, had used his weakness coldly and calculatingly, had manipulated him... He could not remember the last time someone had been able to do that to him. The sharp, hot needle of pain that mixed with his rage did not make things better at all.

The scheming, devious, wicked little bitch was going to be so _very_ sorry.

"You played me for a fool, princess", he hissed and shoved her away violently, sending her tumbling and catching herself on one of the posts of her bed. "That's something I really don't appreciate."

She whirled around to face him, pressing her back against the bedpost. Her face was ghostly white, but two red spots stood out starkly on her cheeks. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her chest heaved under her quick, shallow breath.

He bared his teeth in something that had nothing to do with a smile and slowly, threateningly stalked a bit closer to her, basking in her fear.

"I think I'll take the amount of my humiliation out of your hide, princess. What do you think, how much of your white skin is it worth? Should I take an ear? A finger or two? Or should I just scar your pretty face enough to make your precious Cedric run in horror?"

She blanched even more, and her eyes darted to the door. Bishop flexed his fingers, a cruel smile on his lips. "Oh yes. _Please_ try to run.", he said, softly, full of menace.

They stared at each other for endless seconds, she trying to decide what to do, he relishing the terror on her face. She had not tried to scream yet.

Clever girl.

The spell was broken when Bishop again heard steps nearing the door. He had his dagger out in a heartbeat, and with one quick step he pressed her against the bedpost, the tip of the blade digging into her throat. He did not say anything, but held her gaze with an icy stare.

She flinched and opened her mouth to speak.

There was a knock on the door.

"Liliana?" A woman's voice. "Do you need help with your dress?"

"Your mother?", he whispered.

She shook her head. „My... my governess", she breathed, her voice shaking.

"Well, if you care a fig about her, princess, send her away. Inconspicuously", he hissed into her ear.

"Child?" The woman's voice again.

"Go on", Bishop breathed, his eyes boring into hers. "But remember – if she notices anything amiss, she'll be dead before she can even draw a breath to scream."

The girl flinched, then staggered to the door, making a laudable effort to straighten up while she turned the knob and opened the door a crack. Bishop pressed himself against the wall behind it, inwardly cursing his luck. This was a complication he really did not need. If the governess realized something was wrong, he could kiss all his beautiful schemes of revenge goodbye. Fine, he would have a bloodbath, killing half the household as they rushed to her rescue, but he really looked forward to torturing her for a few hours.

"Is everything all right, child?", the woman asked gently. "Come, let me help you with your dress and hair."

"I...", the girl stuttered, her voice catching as her eyes flicked to him for a second, her face growing even paler. Meeting his icy glare, she cleared her throat nervously and quickly looked away before trying again. "Thank you, Nedda, but the knots were already loose. I managed to open it all by myself, and... and I really want to be alone right now."

"You look troubled, child", the woman said softly, and Bishop saw her hand reaching through the opening in the door, her fingers gliding tenderly over locks of silvery hair. "I know how such things can weigh heavily on your mind. I could keep you company, if you wish to talk some more."

Again, the girl's eyes flicked to him, widening with a hint of panic. "No!", she said vehemently, her voice growing slightly shrill with agitation while her fingers clenched around the doorknob with such force that he wouldn't have been surprised to hear the metal creak in protest. The woman had obviously been surprised by the girl's forceful answer, taking a step back into the hallway, and Bishop silently cursed his luck again, readying himself to jump into action the moment the governess noticed something was wrong... but the girl seemed to have realized the danger, too, because she swallowed once more, obviously trying very hard to regain some of her composure. "I mean... no, thank you, Nedda", she repeated in a more natural voice. "I am just so tired, and I _really_ need some time alone right now. We… we can talk tomorrow again, yes?"

There was a notable pause on the other side of the door, and the governess' voice held a good deal of amusement all of a sudden, as if something had suddenly occured to her that offered a perfectly safe explanation for the girl's strange and secretive behaviour.

"I see", she said. "All right then, child. I will leave you to your… musings. Sleep well, and sweet dreams." There was a hint of a chuckle before she added: "And don't forget to drink your milk while it's still hot."

The girl visibly sagged with relief. "I… I will.", she answered. "Good night."

Footsteps retreated down the corridor while the girl closed the door with shaking hands. Bishop let the dagger sink and smiled thinly into the girl's pale face. "Smart decision", he said dryly.

"What... what are you going to do now?", she whispered, her voice quivering.

He retreated a step, flicking the dagger into the air. It tumbled once, then he caught the hilt deftly, the thin smile still on his face.

"Have not decided yet", he said. "So many possibilities. But first, we'll leave here. Guess I can't expect you not to scream when I start working on you."

Her eyes followed the dagger, and at his words, her face blanched even more. She swallowed, but did not answer.

"Now, princess, you will climb down from that balcony. Quietly. I can't stop you from making a ruckus. But I want you to think hard. Say you manage to alert everyone in the house to my presence. Say they all come to your rescue. Say they manage to subdue me, to save you. How many of them do you think I will kill before they get the better of me? How many lives are you willing to risk?"

He watched her face growing an even lighter shade of pale, and he smirked at her. "That's right, princess. And now that we are clear on this, after you." He indicated at the door to the balcony through which he had entered her room.

Of course she was still wearing that stupid, frilly dress. She'd have a hard time climbing from the balcony without falling. Now, not that he cared if she fell and broke every bone in her body, but it would make noises and alert the rest of the household.

Bishop shook his head. "On second thought, I think we will jump together", he said, acidly. "But I strongly advise you not to get any ideas and try to get away, understood?"

She nodded fearfully, and satisfied that she would not try to do anything stupid, he took her arm as she silently climbed the balustrade, shaking, then he swung his legs over and jumped the short distance to the ground, with her in his arms. Landing on his feet nimbly, he immediately turned to catch her weight, his back supported by the sturdy trunk of the oak.

He had to catch her in his arms, ending up pressed between her body and the trunk. For a moment, he held her against his chest, and her sweet smell filled his senses. He closed his eyes, trying to fight down the sudden urge to bury his face in her hair and inhale deeply.

The temptation to simply surrender to that impulse, to give in to that odd feeling that wanted to rise again was so strong, he had to keep his eyes closed, banging his head back against the coarse bark of the tree in frustration, forcing himself to think of the way she had fooled him. It helped a lot. He shoved her away roughly but grabbed her arm and pulled her with him as he swiftly made his way through the by now very familiar paths through the park.

She had a hard time keeping up with him as her stupid skirts got tangled over and over in the bushes and shrubs that formed decoratively twisted walkways in the artificial wilderness. He did not slow down, but kept an iron grip around her arm, dragging her with him, not caring if she kept on her feet or fell to the ground.

"Where... where are we going?", she wheezed, her corsage not letting her breathe properly, as usual. Her own damn fault if she insisted on wearing such idiotic frippery.

He did not answer her, but kept pulling her along until they came to the end of the park, to the water which was glittering softly under the bright light of the moon and the stars. Bishop roughly shoved the girl to the concealed boat.

"If you so much as twitch...", he growled, throwing her a warning glance as he pulled it out under the bushes. But she just stood, her head bowed, rubbing her smarting arm where he had gripped it, and trying to catch her breath while he hauled the boat back into the water.

Then he dragged the girl to the edge of the lake, shoving her to the boat, enjoying the way she winced as she stumbled into the shallow water, wetting her feet and the hem of her dress.

"Climb in", he said curtly while he held the boat steady, and she obeyed, still avoiding to look at him. As soon as she had settled in the bow, he shoved the boat away from the shore, jumped in nimbly and sat down, taking the oars.

None of them talked while he rowed the boat across the lake in the white light of the moon, to the abandoned boathouse. Bishop's mind wandered ahead, thinking of all the things he had in store for her. He was confident he would have finished with her and be long gone before they even started searching for her. They would expect her to sleep long the morning after the party, would they not?

Soon, the boathouse came into sight, a dark, squat outline against the starry sky. The girl tensed noticeably when she realized that they were nearing their goal, and her breathing quickened, but Bishop paid her no heed, his head still full of images of what he would do to her. After silently mooring the boat at the jetty, he got out and pulled her with him, then he pushed her along the wobbling, narrow wooden walkway into the dilapidated building.

Inside, it was dark, the weak light outside not able to penetrate the dusty windows set high in the wooden walls. The suddenly reluctant girl in tow, he went to his camp in the far corner, his bedroll spread and his backpack and bow resting against the wall next to it.

Bishop gave the girl another shove, and she stumbled forward, her foot catching in the wet hem of her dress. She fell to her knees, and a pained sound escaped her when she caught her fall with her hands.

"Quiet!" he hissed, his eyes narrowed to slits. "And a word of advise: Don't try to run. I don't know about you, but I for myself can see quite well in the dark. You won't come far in any case."

Swiflty, he lit the lantern he had prepared before, then, in its dim shine, turned back to the girl.

"And now, princess, let's talk about payback", he said, smiling grimly.

"Payback?", she answered, a tremor in her voice, while she turned to face him and then climbed to her feet. "_Payback?_"

Standing, she rammed her hands to her hips and glared at him. Obviously, her voice had not been shaking from fear – her lips were compressed to a thin line, and her eyes shot angry daggers at him. Unshed tears were swimming in them, glittering in the light of the lantern, but strangely enough, he did not think they were tears of fright.

"You... you _oaf_!"

_Oaf?_

Bemused, he arched his eyebrows. Wasn't she supposed to be afraid?

"I am so _sick_ of you and your games. How dare you come to my home in the middle of the night, shoving me around, threatening to kill everyone in the house before dragging me through the garden, and then talking to me about payback? For what? Your so-called _humiliation_?"

Her voice was constantly gaining volume until it sounded more like a shout.

"Did all that cheap liquor do something with your head?Because somehow, you seem to have _conveniently_ forgotten what you made me go through in that week!"

She made some quick, angry steps towards him, her eyes now burning with deep blue fire, and stopped just in front of him to glare up into his face, her hand shooting up to poke him sharply in the chest with one finger while he stood, looking down at her with some surprise as she let our her tirade. Somehow, this was not going according to plan.

"Do you really think you are the worst thing that is happening to me and my life right now? Well, think again!" Here her voice faltered a little, and she swallowed, suddenly not quite able to meet his eyes, but her voice returned quickly along with her anger.

"You want to kill me? Fine, go ahead! I cannot stop you. But get it over with, I really don't want to listen to your _rubbish_ any longer!"

She stood in front of him, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, her hands on her hips again, glaring at him, her eyes dark with fury, the anger practically rolling off her in waves.

The humour of the situation suddenly struck a nerve in him, and he had a hard time keeping his mouth from twitching. This was _definitely _not going as expected. What had happened to the timid little mouse he had found in the woods not two weeks ago? Was that bundle of wrath the same person? Hard to believe.

And hard to hate her properly when she was making him laugh. Still, he forced a grim expression on his face, holding on to his anger, and said curtly: "You done?"

She just kept glaring and did not answer his question.

"Because then, mousie, we can try and find out how long your show of bravado survives acquaintance with my dagger. It's amazing how much a little... or not so little... pain can dampen the spirit. Worked well for the secretary. Sung like a bird, that one. Had to kill him afterwards, of course." He smiled at her humourlessly.

Her flushed face went a few shades paler, and the fury in her eyes gave way to realisation – and then horror. "You... _you_ killed Greyburgh?"

His smile went cruel. "What, surprised? Don't pity him, mousie, he did not take pity on you. He was the one who hired me to kill you, after all."

He stared in her face, enjoying how her eyes widened and she blanched even more at the news. This was even better than cutting her, causing her emotional pain. Oh, he would enjoy shoving the truth in her face, watching her anguish while she realized. There was still time for the knives afterwards.

"I just _had_ to know who was paying him. And I could not let him live, now, could I? He knew me, and I did not finish the job. Could not leave witnesses to that."

"Grey... Greyburgh paid you to kill me? No. That cannot be true! I thought Jeanne... but why would he do that?" She took a step back, shaking her head. "I don't believe you!"

He just shrugged and continued: "Speaking of witnesses, princess, it seems that, surprisingly, the guard got the impression that I was a huge, swarthy, black-haired and black-bearded fellow in his late forties. Got any explanation for that?"

She suddenly averted her eyes, her voice strangely subdued all of a sudden. "I... I did not want my brother to find you. He would have gone looking for you trying to avenge me, and you might have killed him, so I gave them a false description. I did not think they would find you, anyway." She still would not meet his gaze.

Bishop threw his head back, laughing cruelly. "Your brother? Oh princess, I would not count on your brother to lift a finger, him being the one paying me a lordly sum to kill you."

"_What?_ Damian? But… you said, Greyburgh..."

He interrupted her with a sneer. "Don't be silly! You think he acted on his own behalf? Hardly."

Her hands balled into fists, and the two red spots were back on her white cheeks. "You're _lying_!", she hissed, her voice thick with anger, but her eyes were unnaturally wide as she spoke. "Damian is my brother! He _loves_ me!"

He grinned, relishing her dismay and confusion. "Well, mousie, it might have something to do with your impending marriage. According to the secretary, your brother wanted you out of the way before someone else would inherit your part of the family fortune in the case of your tragic and unexpected demise."

"No!" She jumped forward and began to hammer against his chest with her small fists. "You're a liar._ Liar_! Take that back!"

He caught her hands and forced them behind her back. She struggled for a moment, but then stilled, breathing heavily. He let go of her and took a step backwards, smiling at her maliciously. "Sorry, little mouse", he said. "I may be a liar – and worse – but in this case, I'm telling the truth. It's much better than any lie I could have come up with, don't you think?"

She stared at him, her face white as a sheet, searching his face, searching his eyes for the slightest reassurance, for the tiniest hint that his words had been less than true. Finding nothing, she sagged, the fight leaving her, and she sank to the ground, covering her face with her hands.

"No!", she moaned. "Oh merciful gods, _please_..." She drew up her legs, wrapped her arms around them and buried her face on her knees.

Bishop settled back against one of the wooden pillars, watching her as she tried to process the news. Well, it had hit home, telling her all that. Even better than hurting her physically.

_An eye for an eye_, he thought. _Misery for misery. Feel your _own _world crumbling, little mouse._

So why did he feel so empty? Revenge was supposed to be sweet, wasn't it?

But he found that seeing her like this, curled up against the pain she had to feel, wasn't what it was supposed to be. What he had been so sure it would be. For some reasons, he felt nothing of the triumph, the gloating or the thrill he had expected. Had felt just moments ago. Strangely, he just felt tired.

His anger mostly vented now, the only thing left behind was weariness. And a large void.

Inexplicably, he found he'd lost his appetite for the game he was playing. Suddenly, he just wanted to get far, far away. Leave it all behind and forget it ever happened.

He rubbed his forehead while he looked at the girl, still huddled on the floor. She had not moved for a couple of minutes now.

What should he do with her? Torturing her had lost its appeal, somehow. Maybe he should just kill her quickly, to get rid of her, and leave. Or maybe he should just leave and let her live to deal with the shambles she was in.

An eye for an eye. A messed up life for a messed up life.

The girl chose that moment to lift her head and look up at him. But there were none of the tear stains he had expected to find on her face. Instead, her mouth was compressed into a thin line again, and her eyes were cold as she stared hard into his face.

"How much did they pay you?", she asked, her voice as cold as her eyes.

What was she up to? He shrugged and answered: "Twenty thousand gold."

Her eyes widened for a moment. "You're kidding!", she replied, her voice full of disbelief.

He cocked his eyebrows. "Do I look like I'm kidding, little mouse?", he replied somewhat dryly.

She laughed at his words, a harsh, brittle sound, and got to her feet. "It is good to know the price for my life", she said. Then she stared at him for a few moments more and added abruptly: "It was just for the gold, wasn't it? You agreeing to do it? It was nothing… personal?"

Bishop snorted. "Personal? Hardly. I had never seen you in my life, after all."

"So it was just for the gold?", she insisted.

He rolled his eyes. "If you have to hear it, yes, little mouse, it was just for the gold. So what?"

"How much?", she asked, her voice still hard. "How much would it take for you to change sides?"

With a short laugh, he replied: "Sides? There are no sides, mousie. Your brother is hardly eager to pay me anymore. I botched up the job, remember?"

She waved his objection away impatiently. "Whatever. Let's just say I believe you - how much would it cost me to make you work for me instead? It can be only a question of the price, now, can it - since you have _no conscience_ and _no loyalties_, if I remember correctly. So if I were to double the price, would that actually be enough?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling a tinge of amusement, his interest piqued despite himself. What was she playing at?

"Forty thousand gold? That's an amount a _common thug_ like me would find hard to resist. You have that much?"

She held his gaze without flinching. "No. But I have jewellery. Most of it is family heirlooms and very old and valuable. You would have to sell it, but if you take it all, it would easily fetch that price. So, what do you say?"

"And what would you have me do, princess?"

"Protect me."

Surprised, he barked out another laugh. "That's a joke, isn't it? You're hiring me – _me_ – for protection? Have you forgotten I was the one trying to kill you? Have you forgotten why I brought you here?"

Her face remained stony, no muscle twitching, not a trace of amusement in her cold eyes. "Oh, I have forgotten _nothing_, believe me. Just answer my question. Will you accept my offer?"

He grinned and took some steps, until he stood in front of her, nearly touching. She did not budge, and she did not bat an eyelid, just staring stonily up at him. His grin broadened. Growing a spine, was she?

But, at least, the horrible feeling of emptiness was fading. So he'd play along. Anything had to be better than that.

Besides... fourty thousand gold was nothing to sneeze at. He'd have to make sure she paid up, though.

"How do you know I will not take your trinkets and kill you anyway, princess?", he asked challengingly.

She just shrugged. "Guess that is just a risk I will have to take, won't I?"

He shook his head, still grinning. "You don't even care, do you?"

Her face remained blank. "Right now? No, I honestly don't."

He eyed her for a moment, speculatively, then he said: "Well, killing you while you don't care won't be much fun, so I guess I might as well take you up on your offer. For now. So, what do you have in mind? What would you need protection from, except from me, that is?"

She smiled, but the expression in her eyes stayed hard and cold. "I am going to have a talk with my brother. And if what you say is true, I want someone to watch my back."

He stared at her in disbelief, then threw his head back and laughed. "Mousie, mousie", he said. "You just keep surprising me."

Looking down at the girl as she stood before him with that icy glare in her eyes, Bishop still tried to wrap his head around the fact that this avenging angel should be the same meek, frightened little mouse he had held hostage in the woods.

He nearly felt pity for the brother.

Suddenly, a flash of silver caught his eye but before he could react, a dagger imbedded itself in his upper left arm.

It was immediately followed by a second flash of silver, but this time, he was prepared and, cursing, he unceremoniously shoved the girl to the ground. The dagger whizzed by and thunked into a wooden pillar, right where the mouse had been standing a second ago.

"Good reflexes. I'm impressed", an amused female voice said from the shadows by the door. In the dull light of the lantern, Bishop could only make out a hint of movement and knew the speaker had changed her position after talking.

No amateur, obviously.

Bishop yanked the dagger out of his arm, ignoring the pain as he kicked the lantern aside so they would not be standing brightly illuminated while some bitch used them for target practice, sitting safely in the dark. It hit the wooden wall of the boat house with a thump and went out, leaving only what little moonlight filtered inside behind.

"Stay down!", he hissed at the girl and crouched, drawing his own dagger from his boot with his second hand, willing his eyes to adapt while he concentrated on his hearing.

Another dagger came flying in his direction, a small flicker of silver in the moonlight, and he rolled, barely avoiding it.

"_You're_ impressed?", he called into the shadows. "Well, I'm not. Your aim is off, and I wonder how you plan to take me out with those little daggers of yours. If you want to impress me, stop hiding like a girl and face me."

"Oh yes", the amused voice answered. "Because _you're_ quite famous for fighting fair, are you?"

Bishop grinned and tried to figure out the exact position of the speaker.

"Got me there", he admitted. "But still, you'll need a lot of daggers to get me. And..." he whirled into the direction of a nearly imperceptible noise and let his own dagger fly, "...two can play this game."

A soft swishing noise, followed by a pained hiss and a foul curse told him he'd hit his mark.

"That hurt", said the slightly strained voice of the unknown attacker. She had moved again. "But you know what?" Another silver blur, and this time, Bishop ducked a fraction of a second too late. The dagger slightly nicked his right arm. "I don't need to hit you all that often. I know you and your reputation. So I put a little something extra on my daggers, just for you."

As soon as she said it, Bishop noticed the cold feeling that had started to spread from the first wound. Accompanied by a feeling of numbness.

"Soon, you won't be able to move your arms", the woman continued, from another position again. "And as soon as the poison reaches your heart, it will get _really_ interesting. And I'm looking forward to watch."

Bishop spat out a curse and dodged another dagger. Rolling forward, he sprang back to his feet and jumped the remaining distance to his scimitars, resting with his bow in the corner of the boat house. Already his left arm was starting to get sluggish. At least his eyes were slowly getting used to the dark.

"What do you want?" he called, trying to assess the position of the assassin.

"What you wanted", she answered, her voice full of amusement again. "The prize money for the little girl. When I heard that I might get to kill _you_ in the process, that was just a bonus."

Concentrating on his hearing, Bishop thought he knew where she was. A flick of his right wrist sent his scimitar flying, and again, the weapon hit home. The unknown assassin cried out in pain. But by now, the cold in his left arm had reached his shoulder, his arm hardly wanted to move anymore, and the coldness had started to spread in his right arm as well.

Things were not looking well.

"Have we met?", he gritted out, his teeth clenched, moving into the direction of the voice. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the effort of trying to get his arms to work properly. He threw his second scimitar, but by now his right arm, too, would not obey him anymore, and the weapon missed.

And then the poison reached his heart.

He cried out at the pain when he felt his heart contract violently and fell to the ground, trying to clutch at his chest, but his arms failed to move.

"Finally", the woman's voice said, and a shadow came out of the darkness, clad in black, tightly fitting garments, the face blackened as well so it would not be visible in the dark. "I've been waiting for that moment for a long time." She was limping and holding her hand to a deep gash in her side where Bishop's scimitar had hit her. The second, heavily bleeding wound in her shoulder must have been left by his dagger.

Bishop was trying to fight down the pain, but his heart kept contracting more and more viciously. He moaned, gasping for air and feeling like he could not get any.

"Why?", he ground out. "Dont even... know you."

"Oh, we have met", she hissed. "You may not remember me, but I remember _you_. We have been trained by the same people. And I was in the group that accompanied you to your initiation. I survived. My lover was not so lucky. And of course, after that disaster, I could not go back home. But I have dreamed of seeing you die painfully for years. And now, I will get my wish."

He could see her smile cruelly under the black paint, her dark eyes glittering triumphantly, even though his vision was getting fuzzy. "And when you are dead, I will drown your girlfriend in the lake and leave both your bodies to the fishes. Double suicide of star crossed lovers, how tragic. Her brother will get her share of the heritage, and I will get a lot of gold. And my revenge on top. Life _is_ sweet after all."

Bishop cried out and spasmed as his heart constricted again, the pain not even leaving any room for fear. His dim vision made out a shadow behind the assassin, and he blinked to clear the picture when suddenly the woman jerked, gave a strangled noise, and blood welled out of her mouth. Then she collapsed to the ground and stayed quiet, the outline of the little mouse blurry in Bishop's fading view as she stared at the crumbled body on the floor with wide, disbelieving eyes, gripping a bloody dagger so tightly with her right hand that her knuckles had turned white.

Bishop tried again to blink the sweat that was running from his forehead out of his eyes. He managed a weak smile.

"Seems like... this little mouse... has grown some teeth", he coughed, before his heart gave another squeeze, and his body convulsed with the pain.

He did not have long.

He made an effort to look at the girl, but seemed unable to focus on anything. "Backpack", he croaked. "Green... bottle." Another spasm hit him, and then there was nothing.

xxx

When he came to, the pain had mercifully left him and he was lying on something soft and warm. His brain still felt somewhat foggy, and he kept his eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of feeling nothing.

He remembered the assassin. The poison. The pain. And... the girl? The girl had killed the assassin, catching her by surprise while she stood over him, gloating. A small smile tugged at his mouth, even if he still kept his lids shut. Not so mousy anymore, was she?

"Bishop?" There was a soft, rustling sound and he felt someone kneel down beside him, the touch of a gentle hand cool against his cheek. "Are you awake?"

Finally, he opened his eyes and blinked, trying to get accustomed to the dim light. The girl had somehow managed roll him onto his blanket and wrap him up. His lantern seemed to have survived the ordeal, since its warm shine illuminated her concerned face as it hovered over him, her wonderful hair falling around it like a curtain, the worry in her deep blue eyes mingling with relief. She did indeed look like an angel, and he felt something tug at his heart at her sight. "You are awake", she said, her voice shaking a little. "Are you all right?"

He tried to speak, coughed, and carefully cleared his throat, which felt like sand paper, rough and dry. She handed him his water skin, opened it, and with a rare feeling of gratitude he drank slowly while she carefully held his head.

When he was done, he gave it back to her and sank back to his bedroll. The pain was gone, but hells take him if he did not still feel weak like a kitten, and his brain seemed mushy.

Probably the poison left some permanently weakening effects behind. Nevertheless, he felt a smile lift the corners of his mouth, and he reached up to touch her hair.

"Guess you saved both our lives right now, mousie", he murmured.

She looked up sharply at his words, and there was a haunted look in her eyes as she spoke. "I guess I did", she replied quietly as she returned his smile, but even in the dim light of his lantern he could not fail to notice how pained it looked. "Not bad for a mouse, hm?"

Later, he could never tell how it had happened. That haggard smile, the brave front she so unsuccessfully tried to keep up, stirred something in his heart, and before he could think about it, his hand wandered from her hair to her neck, and he started to draw her down to him.

"Not bad at all", he said, his voice hoarse, and not from his dry throat.

He saw her eyes widen, but then her lips met his, and his own eyes closed, finding himself caught in the softest, sweetest kiss of his life.

He'd never seen the sense in kissing, really. Kissing while you ripped some woman's clothes off, fine, but just kissing? No use in that.

But now...

His hand stroked her neck, tenderly, and she sighed and melted against his body, coming to lie on top of him. Her hands tangled in his hair, and when his tongue softly touched her lips, her mouth opened, and the tip of her own tongue found his.

It felt like a small, electric jolt tingled through his body, and he inhaled her scent deeply, drawing her closer, his tongue playing with hers, lightly, and ever so slowly. Her mouth tasted sweet, her lips were so soft, and her scent made his heart contract, but in a good way.

He wanted to go on like this forever. He'd never felt anything like it.

A small moan escaped him, overwhelmed by this strange, new feeling, and he rolled to his side, taking her with him, to be able to press her even closer, to be able to deepen the kiss...

But suddenly she tensed, her hands were pressing against his chest, and she shoved him back with a nearly violent motion. She scrambled to her feet and turned her back to him so he could not see her face, and only the quick rising and falling of her shoulders while she breathed heavily told him that she was quite agitated.

"No", she said, her voice strangled. "No, I... I can't. I... Cedric..." She stopped and took some quick steps away from him, out of the light of the lantern, her face remaining in the darkness even as she turned back to him.

"We have to leave", she said, her voice still strained. "I hired you for protection, remember? I have to talk to my brother before my parents return. We must hurry."

Bishop gritted his teeth as he raised himself to his elbows. There it was again, the feeling of having his heart ripped out of his chest. How could one simple word hurt so much?

_Cedric._

Would he always be the rejected one, the one denied, spurned for some idiotic half-wit with an aureole around his head?

And that pansy did not even have that.

He felt a sting in his eyes and fought it back, searched for the anger that was always burning somewhere in him for salvation. Anger would help him chase away the hurt. Anger would help him make her feel some of the pain he felt right now.

And there it was, always ready, bubbling to the surface. He welcomed it, embraced it, clung to it like a lifeline, let it take over and felt the hurt being pushed back behind the wall of fury.

A sneer showed on his face as he slowly climbed to his feet.

"As you wish, princess", he replied acidly. "I just wanted to thank you for the rescue, but if you don't want me to, all the better. I don't have to pretend then." He reached for his backpack, went to his knees and started to rummage through it. "But if I were you, I would think some things over. The way you react to my kisses, I would say there's something dear Cedric is not giving you. Or maybe..." He paused a bit for dramatic effect, thinking of what he had overheard in the maze, knowing the next blow would strike home. "Maybe he simply is not interested enough to bother?"

He gave her a derisive grin and had the satisfaction to see her pale once more, and her eyes widen with shock. "Either that, or you're less virtuous than I thought."

He had found the bottle he was looking for and was just drawing the cork when he cast her another quick glance out of the corner of his eye, and felt greatly pleased when he saw her staring at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open, obviously desperately searching for words.

"What would you know?", she finally whispered, her eyes filling with pain and grief. "You never felt a genuine emotion in your whole life."

He grinned lazily and got up again. "Seems I struck a chord, somewhere", he drawled with relish, feeling a grim satisfaction that his arrows had hit the mark, as usual. He tipped the bottle to his lips and drank, shuddering at the bitter taste, but instantly feeling the restoring effects of the potion as the strenght returned to his limbs.

"Now, you wanted to hurry, so if you are ready to face your loving brother, after you."

"I hate you", she whispered still in that quiet voice, her words catching in her throat as she kept staring at him, her eyes glittering unusually bright in the light of the lantern.

"I'm hurt", he mocked, trying not to think about the truth in that statement. "But I'll live."

He started to don his leathers. There might well be a fight ahead. Then he collected his scimitars from where they had fallen and put his dagger back into his boot.

"Now, your highness, your humble bodyguard is ready to be of service. Or don't you want to meet your dear brother all of a sudden?"

He saw her square her shoulders and suddenly, her eyes were cold again.

"You bet I will", she said, curtly, and turned to the jetty.

The remnants of that inexplicable ache still in his heart, Bishop followed her out into the night.


	12. Facing the Beast

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

_I wanted to give a Thank You to all reviewers with the PM option switched off - I would have liked to thank you personally for your comments, but couldn't. But your reviews still made Kaana and me happy. :)_

* * *

They made their way over the lake in silence, Bishop rowing the boat while Liliana was huddled in the stern, her arms folded tightly around her knees against the cool, damp pre-dawn air. The boat made almost no sound as it glided over the dark waters, the small waves of the bow disturbing its mirror-like surface reflecting a lead-coloured sky that told her that the sunrise was probably no more than an hour away.

The houses on either side of the lake were equally dark, black, stony masses against the slowly brightening sky. Mist was rising from the lake in the early hours of dawn, muffling every sound, and Liliana shivered not only from the damp air.

In this grey twilight, the world around her seemed surreal, like a dreamscape… which was an odd match with the strange feeling that was swirling inside her chest, making it hard to believe that any of this was actually real. She cast another glance at Bishop, sitting at the other side of the boat, the powerful moves of his arms carrying them quickly across the water.

His presence felt surreal as well, as if he had finally stepped out of one of her nightmares to haunt her, and she quickly averted her gaze before he could catch her staring.

_I cannot believe I kissed him._

The thought stirred something inside her, feelings of confusion and guilt that mingled with the frenzied apathy and fear that shone through the dull haze that seemed to cloud her emotions since the events at the boathouse. But beneath that haze, it felt like a maelstrom was swirling inside her, all these different emotions and maybe a dozen more that she could not name all bottled up deep within her, and the gods help her should that dam ever break.

First her unpleasant confrontation with Jeanne, then her argument with Cedric… and then _he_ had appeared, in the very moment when she had finally felt like getting a hold back on her life, that she would somehow make things right again. She could still remember the icy fear that had gripped her when she had recognised his voice, hissing into her ear in the dark of her room, and all the carefully prepared speeches for him that she had practised in her mind over the past days had deserted her due to the sheer panic that had welled up when she had seen the murderous wrath on his face, leaving no room for anything else but gut-wrenching fear, least of all an apology.

_And it would have been so much better to stay afraid of him, Liliana, don't you think, _whispered the soft voice in her mind. _Look at the trouble you are in now. He does not deserve your pity. He does not deserve your understanding. He does not even _care_ what you think of him. Remember what he did to you, back in the hut? And what he wanted to do to you today?_

True. So very, very true. But who could have thought that things would turn out the way they had?

In the beginning, that mindless terror had held her in an iron grip while he had made her talk to Nerdanel and later when he had dragged her forcefully through the park down to the boat, and had only lessened its hold on her as they had made their way over the lake. Maybe you could only be terrified for so long?

She did not know, but what she _did_ know was that she had still been frightened when he had pushed her forcefully into the old boathouse that belonged to the abandoned Millsfall mansion, and that her fear miraculously had given way to anger when he had loomed over her, talking to her about payback.

She really could not say what had made her do it, but all of a sudden she had not cared anymore. One of her friends had called her all but a whore in public, her love was displeased with her because she could even imagine a life of her own that did not center around him and his career, and then Bishop had the guts to glare at her as if he had any right to be angry with her. As if she owed him anything!

As if she did not feel bad enough already for all her schemes without him to remind her, despite the complete stupidity of that notion. So why should she cower in fear when it had been his own fault all along that she had been forced to play him? What could he actually do to make her life any more miserable?

_What, indeed?_

A bitter smile crept over her face at that thought, her stomach clenching painfully. She still could not believe it. Greyburgh dead, killed by Bishop's own hands, tortured even.

And Damian…

She did not want to believe him. _Could_ not believe him. Damian was her brother, after all. Greyburgh had probably been in terrible pain, and would have said anything to make it stop… or it could all have been an insidious, twisted lie right from the start, simply to shake her confidence.

It would have been so easy to dismiss Bishop's claim… if she could not so very clearly remember the look on Damian's face when she had come to him in his study, the cold indifference in his eyes and the challenge in his voice.

_I always win my games, Liliana. You and your friend have just raised the stakes, and I hope that you are prepared for that._

_Your friend._

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Not only that Damian seemed to be the mastermind behind the conspiracy that wished to see her dead, he now also seemed to think that she was somehow working with Bishop to plot his own timely demise in revenge… while not a few hours ago, Bishop on the other hand had still been more than eager to kill her all on his own, but had now somehow ended up as her hired guard… if she trusted him enough to stay true to his word, that was.

Who could live in a world like this and _not_ end up mad?

She cast Bishop another glance out of the corner of her eye and could still see the blood on his sleeve where the knife of this… woman had cut him, and felt as if her heart got squeezed by razor-sharp claws, the dull haze around her emotions lifting for the fraction of a second, leaving behind the bitter taste of helpless despair.

_I killed her. Another human being. I took that knife and rammed it between her ribs. I killed her. With my own hands!_

…_icy waves of terror rippling through her while she lies flat on the floor, too afraid to move and paralyzed with fear while Bishop and the woman are arguing and fighting in the dark gloom that is left of the light of the moon. _

_Sensing that something is off even before the woman mentions the poison. She has seen Bishop fight, after all, the memories of that day in the hut burned into her mind like a brand, and so she notices something off about his movements even before he collapses onto the floor. _

_And then he starts to scream, and Liliana closes her eyes involuntarily as the memories make another icy shiver run down her spine._

_Merciful gods, his screams…_

_How would she ever be able to forget his tortured howls, born out of his pain and fear, cutting her to the quick, her panic increasing a thousandfold when she sees him writhing on the floor in agony while that woman stands over him, weapon in hand, the sight making her feel as if her heart has been ripped from her chest. _

She will kill him. She is really going to kill him!

_And then not being able to stand it any longer – his screams, the woman's cruel taunts, her own mindflaying fear, her ever-growing panic that he would get hurt, that _she_ would get hurt… _

_Looking around wildly in the half-dark, trying to come up with an idea to do at least _something_ to make it all stop, her eyes falling on one of the woman's daggers, lying discarded on the floor._

_She does not expect her attack to be of much use. When has she ever used a knife to do anything besides peeling an apple, really? But the woman has said that she has poisoned all her daggers, and so Liliana hopes that if she is able to cut her, the poison will do to her what it has done to Bishop, and if she can distract the woman long enough afterwards for the poison to take root… she might be able to tie her up. Knock her out. _Anything.

_The weapon coming up in a clumsy arc as she aims for the woman's broad back, afraid that she would otherwise miss her target. _

He was hurting. I needed to make sure that I could cut through her leathers. They looked thick. I had to use all the force I could muster! I had to!

_But it seems that poison is not the only little something the woman has put onto her weapons, because the dagger goes through all her garments and her flesh like a hot knife through butter, making her feel not the slightest bit of resistance when its blade buries itself deep into the woman's chest. Something hot and wet suddenly trickles over her fingers, and Liliana steps back with a gasp, staring with wide eyes on the blood that now mars both her fingers and the knife… _

_I hurt her. I _killed_ her!_

The thought was still unthinkable. She probably would have freaked out right there and then if Bishop had not addressed her, the pain in his voice bringing her back to reality in an instant. His eyes had rolled back beneath his lids when another wave of spasms had hit him, his body convulsing painfully, and then he had lain still all of a sudden, and a very different kind of fear had gripped her heart.

"Bishop? _Bishop!_"

The memory of that shout alone, stumbling past her lips when he had stopped moving was enough to make her cringe.

_And do you remember how he repaid you for your worry after you fell for his little trap, when he kissed you? His scorn, his taunts, that self-satisfied smirk? Does you right for acting like a sheep!_

But her voice of reason had been drowned in the panicked screech that had seemed to echo in her mind when she had kneeled by his side and had grabbed his shoulders, smearing his shirt with blood, his skin feeling clammy when she had shook him forcefully to get a reaction.

_Backpack… green… bottle…_

He had tried to tell her what to do with his last croak, but she had been forced to slap herself hard on both her cheeks to get such a hold on her fear that she had eventually been able to hurry over to his backpack and start to search for said bottle. The muscles in his jaw had been cramped so tightly that she almost had not managed to open his mouth wide enough to instill the mud-coloured liquid, and afterwards, she had just sat there in the dark, her panic falling and rising like the tides whenever the shadows of the lantern had made it appear as if he had stopped breathing.

How long had she sat there in the gloom of the boathouse, staring at his pale face without daring to look away, as if her frightened gaze was the only thing that kept him alive?

And the huge wave of relief that had welled through her when he had started to move again, blinking even against the dim light of the lantern, her relief a notion so foolish, so embarrassing… But she had not been able to help herself, feeling so relieved that he had not died and that he would be all right again that she had only realised what he was doing when it had already been too late. His hand had closed around her neck, drawing her even closer towards him, and then his lips had searched for her mouth, so soft, so gentle…

And she had been so confused and so hurt and so frightened, and then his scent had mingled with the taste of herbs in his mouth, that musky odour of sun and leaves that she remembered so very well, and after everything that she had been through, it had just felt so _good_ to feel the touch of his hand, and his soft hair under her fingers. His moan had been like a spark, igniting that treacherous fire in her blood, and she had leaned even further into his kiss, melting against him and only coming to her senses when he had taken her into his arms to roll her onto her back, half-burying her beneath his lithe form…

Suddenly realising what she was doing. _Who_ she was kissing.

She had kicked and squirmed to get away from him, to wriggle herself out of his grasp, but the damage had already been done. He had kissed her and she had kissed him back, and they both knew it.

She stole another hooded glance at Bishop, watching the sharp lines of his profile in the first light of dawn as he rowed the boat across the lake, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, and squirmed once more, a new found wave of guilt and shame choking her. Maybe Jeanne had been right to call her a liability? What kind of woman would allow a man like Bishop to touch her, to kiss her, and would even feel pleasure at such an act? Especially when she was in fact in love with another? _Betrothed_ to another?

_And it is not even the first time that this happened, isn't it, Liliana?_

That thought and the memories it stirred, memories of a small hut in the woods and a kiss shared in front of a fireplace made the guilt almost unbearable, and her eyes searched for the dolphin ring on her hand almost pleadingly, only to widen in shock when she realised that it was still smeared with blood. Hastily, she held her hand out of the boat and into the lake, the water feeling icy under her fingers, and then gathered some folds of her skirt to scrub her hand frantically, not giving a damn when the sharp edges of the ring cut into the fine cloth.

The boat slowed all of a sudden and she looked up, surprised, another shiver running down her spine when she saw that Bishop was actually watching her with an inscrutable expression on his face and a dark look in his eyes. For a long moment they simply stared at each other across the small length of the boat, she holding his gaze defiantly while his eyes bored into hers, before he sneered and looked away without saying a word, resuming his rowing.

_I just wanted to thank you for the rescue, but if you don't want me to, all the better. I don't have to pretend, then_.

_But if I were you, I would think some things over._

_The way you react to my kisses, I would say there's something dear Cedric is not giving you. Or maybe he simply is not interested enough to bother?_

His words had cut deep, deeper than he could ever imagine. They still left her bleeding inside, loath as she was to admit it. But he had been right about one thing, though – how could she enjoy the feel of him when he kissed her, the sensation of his lips on her mouth when no man but Cedric should make her feel this way? And why did she even care if he had no feelings for her at all, that she was nothing more than a replacement for the woman that he had never been able to get?

Just thinking about it made his words cut even deeper, but embarrassing as it was, it also brought her back to something that had been nagging at the back of her mind ever since the day she had left Javroun Lithkind and the Font of Knowledge behind.

So she mentally steeled herself before she looked up at him again, holding his gaze defiantly when his eyes finally met hers, trying to keep her voice down so that it would not carry too far across the water.

"Why did you not tell her?"

She could see him frown even in the dim light of dawn.

"I'm in no mood for riddles, princess. What the hells are you babbling about?"

"You know what I am talking about." Judging by the dark expression on his face, he seemed to know indeed but obviously had decided to ignore her, which made Liliana fight hard to keep herself from rolling her eyes. "Riana?" she offered, a hint of her impatience at his oh-so obvious denial creeping into her voice as well. "The woman you loved?"

"Love!" Bishop snorted and spat into the water. "Hardly. Love's for stupid little girls, as you'll learn some day. Think of my words when you grow bored with your Cedric, princess."

For a moment, she almost spat at him that this was a lie, that he had told her all about his feelings right to her face, but then her survival instinct kicked in, telling her in an urgent whisper that it probably wasn't such a good idea to remind him of _that_, and so she just huffed, her fingers itching from the sudden urge to throttle him for being so… _him_.

„I will _not_ grow bored with Cedric," she hissed instead, but it seemed that his words had stroked a cord, considering the sharp pain in her heart.

_Are you sure, Liliana? Spending your days here for the rest of your life, with only your house and your children and your husband to distract you? Living a calm and quiet life with a calm and quiet marriage, always wondering why Cedric cannot make you feel like _he_ does when he ki…_

_Stop it_, she thought vehemently, her hands suddenly clawing into the fine cloth of her skirt. _Don't you _dare_ to imply that I enjoy his touch more than Cedric's, that he is special. He is not. _He is not_!_

Bishop snorted again, and at the sight of the wry smile that suddenly played in the corners of his mouth Liliana felt the almost irresistible desire to cross the small distance between them and slap it off his face - hard.

"Yeah, sure you won't."

"Even if it wasn't _love,_" she picked up on their previous topic, still seething inside but deciding to change the subject nonetheless before she could do something that she would truly regret later. „There must have been _something - _since you are still acting all crazy about her. So why did you not tell her?"

Bishop's eyes narrowed dangerously. "None of your business, mousie. So drop it."

"Oh, come now," she replied, her patience finally wearing thin. "I am paying you _forty thousand_ gold. I think for such an incredible amount of wealth I am entitled to ask you some questions, especially if you are considering the fact that I am cold, and tired, and that this actually hasn't been the best day of my life. You owe me for saving your life. So humour me."

He still did not answer, and this time, she rolled her eyes in earnest. "Please?"

His eyes widened, as if she had said something that surprised him. For a moment, his gaze went past her, seemingly dwelling on some memory, and a small smile appeared on his face. Then he seemed to snap back to the present, but the strange, somehow wistful smile stayed on his face.

"Seems like life has an odd way of repeating itself, mousie. All right. Sold my thoughts once for twenty gold, so I guess forty thousand should buy you something as well. Ask away."

"Why did you not tell her?" Liliana repeated somewhat frostily, surprised by his sudden mood swing and how her anger was melted by the spark of curiosity that had been ignited by his words. What was he referring to?

There was a small pause as Bishop's face seemed to shut down again, the smile dwindling. "She was not... available."

Liliana nodded in understanding. "She chose Casavir."

That comment made Bishop's eyes narrow once more. "Someone's been busy, I see. If you know the story already, why keep pestering me?"

Her survival instinct nudged her again, reminding her that this had to be a very sensitive topic that she was discussing with one of the inhabitants of Faerun who was known neither for his patience nor his sweet temper, but she took a deep breath and simply went on, trying her best not to let her sudden nervousness show in her voice. If she did not ask him now, how would she ever get an answer to the question that had kept her awake for the past nights?

"But they cannot have been together right from the start," she insisted, holding his gaze firmly. "Such things develop, take their time, grow slowly. Why did you never make a move?"

Bishop laughed, a short, biting sound without the slightest trace of amusement.

"What kind of question is that, mousie? Look at me. Do I look like I'd want to be shackled to a woman?" He snorted. "Besides, they suited each other just fine. Both holier-then-thou, self-righteous paragons of virtue. Think she would have looked at me twice, with him around?" His voice was dripping with scorn now, and yet strangely enough Liliana got the feeling that not all of that scorn was aimed at the couple he was talking about.

His posture did not change as he spoke, the tone of his voice staying mockingly light, and still Liliana was certain that she could sense the bitterness under his words, the wounds that Riana's rejection had caused him still not healed after all this time, and felt her heart call out for him all of a sudden, even despite her anger.

"I would," she replied softly without really thinking, still driven by that unexpected burst of compassion. Bishop stopped for a moment in his rowing to look at her, his eyes blazing with fury all of a sudden, and Liliana felt her own eyes widen as her mind finally caught up with her words, mentally kicking herself.

_Sheep! What are you _doing_?_

"… would have liked to know if… if I had been her," she improvised wildly, her heart now hammering loudly in her chest, alarmed by the sudden swing in his mood and not certain what had caused it. Bishop shot her another hard glare, but the rage in his eyes died a little and he at least resumed rowing, so she hurried to distract him from that major slip-up that had left her mouth before she had been able to stop herself.

"I mean… let us just assume that you were your usual charming self most of the time – she probably was convinced that you hated her guts right until the end. How could she have made a choice if she had not even _known_ that she was supposed to make one?"

Bishop's mouth twitched a little at her assessment of his character, the anger leaving his face completely, but he shook his head. "Look, she's _dead,_" he said. "It's done. No use in dwelling on it, so just let it go, all right?"

"But…"

"No, mousie," Bishop interrupted, a note of finality in his voice. "That's all your gold will buy you, and it's more than anyone has ever gotten. Topic closed. End of discussion." His lips compressed to a hard line, he continued rowing, his expression clearly demonstrating that he truly had nothing more to say on the matter.

"Fine," she replied quietly after studying his face for a long moment, not knowing what to make of the contradicting emotions that were now waging inside her chest. What did she care if he wanted to spend the rest of his days in denial, if he did not want to move on and leave that part of his past behind him? "Have it your way."

The mist parted all of a sudden, and Liliana forgot all about their discussion when her stomach clenched painfully at the sight of her house, coming quickly into view now that they were nearing the shore.

Liliana stared up at the row of dark windows, and felt her heart contract even more painfully as she noticed that the lights were still on in Damian's study, as if he had stayed awake all night.

_Waiting…_

She swallowed, wondering briefly if denial truly was such a bad thing as she sent a quick prayer to the gods above that she would be able to stand the truth that was waiting for her on the other side of the garden – one way or the other.


	13. Family Ties

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

In silence, Bishop dragged the boat to shore, his mind still occupied with the events of the last hours. Funny how things had turned out.

Funny indeed. In other words, a joke.

Had he not set out to get his revenge on the girl that was waiting next to him with her eyes fixed on the single light that was visible through the trees of the park, lighting one of the windows of the mansion?

Instead of revenge, here he was, and somehow now she was paying him to help her get _her _revenge. Or whatever she was out for. If it was him, he would want to have the brother's head on a platter. But then she was not him, wasn't she?

She probably still wanted to cling to the belief that all this was a mistake, that her brother would come around once she confronted him in the open. Well, that hope would die a painful death soon, of that Bishop was sure. The secretary had told him the truth when he said the brother was behind it. He had been in too much pain to lie. And if a man like her brother went to such great lengths to kill his own sister, a teary heart-to-heart wouldn't change his mind. Because he had to be a cold and greedy bastard. Bishop could relate. And knew he would not be swayed. And the brother wouldn't either.

It was a truly strange turn things had taken. Bishop could not help but wonder what had gotten into him. Taking an eye for an eye had always been his credo. Often he took the eye before his own could be taken, as a sort of preliminary measure. And yet, this time, he seemed to have lost his taste for revenge midway.

Funny.

So when he accepted the offer of forty thousand gold – leaving aside the question if the girl really would be good for it – it had been a way of saving face as much as it had been a way to get rich. More so, even. Because, how could he simply let her walk away after all his threats and grandstanding?

_Well, mousie, I've changed my mind. I won't torture and kill you after all. So long. Say hello to your brother from me._

Hardly.

But after she had offered him that ridiculous amount of money… well, that was a _reason_, was it not?

If only he could shed the nagging feeling that they both knew it was not the only reason. Not even the main one.

And what had gotten into him when he kissed her after the assassin had poisoned him?

_The poison. You weren't thinking straight._

Well. That had to be it.

Only to have her throw that pansy's name into his face once more.

_The second time. That was the second time you let her do that._

He still felt like throttling her for the way she had wiped her precious ring on her dress on the way over the lake, full of panic it might have been stained. Dirtied.

_Like I have dirtied her with my kiss, I guess._

_Not like I have not been warned. My own damn fault for falling into that trap twice._

And the other funny thing?

He had not even _thought_of Riana when he drew her close to kiss her. Not even he could lie to himself enough to pretend he had only seen her as a surrogate. There had been only one woman on his mind that time, and it had not been Riana.

He had not wasted a thought on the Knight Captain the whole evening, not until the girl had brought her up.

Oh yes. Real funny.

And then, after pushing him away, throwing a _Cedric_ into his face once more and after frantically cleaning her ring to demonstrate where her feelings really lay – she had had the _gall_to tell him she would have preferred him to the paladin.

Or had she? Bishop frowned. He still was not sure if that _I would have liked to know_was a gloss over or not.

_And what does it matter? Does it change anything?_

No. The answer was no. It made no difference. He would face her brother with her, collect as much of his money as he could get, and then he would be on his merry way, and she would marry her darling Cedric.

No use wasting time thinking about it.

The sky was showing the first signs of an early dawn, just getting light enough that the stars were not visible anymore. In the murky light, he could see a crease forming between the girl's brows as she stared at her home.

"Something is not right", she said, abruptly.

Bishop raised an eyebrow inquisitively. There were a lot of things not right in her life right now, he would say, but he guessed she had something specific in mind.

"The windows are all dark. Most of the servants should be up by now, working in the kitchen", she explained, pointing towards a row of black windows on the ground floor. "But there is nothing."

Bishop nodded. She was right. Something about the dark house seemed off. "What's behind that?", he asked, indicating at the single lit window.

"Damian's study", she answered, her voice terse.

He shot her a quick glance, taking in the tension on her face and the apprehension in her eyes, and could not blame her. If the brother was still up, that could only mean two things.

First, the brother had to be waiting for something to be still up at this ungodsly hour. And it was not a wild guess that that something was the report of the assassin he had sent after his little sister. Thus the light was confirming Bishop's accusations.

Second, if the brother dearest was waiting for said assassin and knew that said assassin might be up against Bishop, it was more than probable that he had prepared for the worst. And that meant that Bishop and the girl were most likely to run into a couple of other surprises.

This might get more difficult than expected. And more dangerous. Who knew what might be waiting for them in the dark mansion?

Nothing good, that much seemed certain.

It was better to play it safe. Bishop might not be able to stay at her side all the time. Someone might jump her while he was occupied otherwise. Better she had the means to defend herself. After what she did to the assassin, at least he knew she had it in her to kill to survive.

Made him respect her a lot more than he had thought possible.

He bent down, pulled a dagger from one of his boots and held it out to her, one of his eyebrows raised. Did she have the guts to arm herself? If she did, it was knowing full well that she might have to use it.

She stared at him, meeting his gaze squarely, and something flickered in her eyes as she looked down for a moment at his hand and the dagger he offered. Then she tensed, and lifting her chin in something close to a challenge, she reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out one of the daggers the assassin had thrown in the boathouse, presenting it to him while mimicking his questioning stare.

Now both of his eyebrows shot up. Well, well, well. Who'd have thought?

"Aren't we full of surprises tonight, mousie?", he said with a slight smile. "Good thinking."

He shoved his own dagger back down his boot as she hid her knife again, and he had to admit feeling a bit relieved. He felt like the job of guarding her had just gotten somewhat easier.

xxx

As they made their way through the park, Bishop tried to prepare her for the things he was certain were to come. Which was a fight, and probably not an easy one, if the brother was expecting them.

"You stay close behind me", he told her, his voice leaving no room for discussion. "In the house, you lead the way, but if I tell you to do something, you do it. No hesitation, no thinking about it, no arguing. If there's a fight, you stay out of it, if possible. You defend yourself if you have to, but first you try to hide. Leave the fighting to your bodyguard, that's what they're for. I don't want you getting in my way, and I don't want you to put yourself in harm's way, making my job more difficult than necessary. Got that?"

She was quiet for a couple of seconds, digesting what he had said. His words and his urgent tone had to tell her clearly he was indeed expecting trouble.

"Yes", she finally replied, her voice subdued. "I got it."

There was nothing more to say. They made their way through the park in silence, the only noise the occasional soft scraping of gravel under the girl's feet.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bushes ahead, and a shadow rushed out of it, running at them with full speed.

Bishop heard the girl make a distressed noise, and she grabbed his arm, holding him back, pushing in front of him, obviously intending to protect him.

He let her do it, watching with an amused smile as the watchdog simply passed her by, screeching to a halt in front of him, making gravel fly everywhere, and then started to hop about his feet excitedly, its short tail wagging.

"Hello boy", Bishop said, trying not to grin broadly as he bent to scratch the dog's ear. "Miss me?"

The dog yapped, licking his hand, and then turned to the girl, hackling happily, an expression on its face that could only be described as a grin.

The expression on the girl's face was priceless, and Bishop had to work hard not to snicker. She gaped first at him, then at the dog, looking thunderstruck, before her expression turned to anger.

"Bad dog", she snarled at the animal, and it whined, obviously not understanding what it had done wrong. "What are you, a lapdog?"

Her finger pointed sharply at Bishop.

"This is a bad man. A bad man! Do you not recognise a villain when you see one?"

A wicked smile glittered in Bishop's eyes as he crouched to pet the dog once more. "Oh yes, mousie. A very bad man indeed", he purred. "You noticed? I'm flattered."

He saw her watch with impotent fury as the dog licked his hand again, and got up, suddenly serious.

"Don't scold him, and don't even think of putting him down, you hear me?" He stared at her, hard. "It's not his fault. He simply submitted to the dominant male. He could not help it. It's a dog's way. If you want to guard your house against any ranger worth his money, you don't use animals. Blame yourself, not him."

She gave him a haughty stare, but he could see a bit of colour creeping into her cheeks, and the anger died in her eyes.

"Fine", the girl replied, still sounding miffed. "_Fine_. I won't scold him."

She kneeled down and held out her hand, and the dog padded over to her, still whining as it began to lick her fingers. "It's alright", she murmured quietly as she scratched the dog's ears. "I'm not angry with you anymore."

The dog tried to lick her face, which made her giggle with surprised laughter, but the smile on her face died as soon as she stood up to face him once more, her expression changing from playful to tense in a heartbeat.

"Lead the way", she said, her hand indicating at the dark building looming ahead.

xxx

Approaching the silent mansion, Bishop could feel the apprehension mounting up. He just felt it in his bones. Something was not right. As the girl had said, it was too dark, too quiet, for the hour. Even if the brother was up, waiting for his assassin to return – where were all the servants? They should be up, preparing breakfast, lighting fires, whatever.

But nothing. Just silence, and darkness.

And that single, ominous, lit window.

It felt like walking into a trap.

Normally, he would have felt pretty confident he could take whatever the brother threw at him, but he did not survive by ignoring signs of danger. Plus, this time, he not only had to watch out for himself, but also for the girl. Had to guard her with his own life, even. That made him twitchy. He was not used to think of other's safety first.

To be honest, if push came to shove, he was not sure he was ready to throw his life on the line for her. It went against all his instincts.

Well. Being a bodyguard was not what he was cut out for, obviously. But forty thousand gold had been too tempting an offer.

_Yeah, right. All for the money, huh?_

_Shut up._

He would have to make it through this somehow, and keep her alive while he was at it. Dead clients could not pay. And then he was rich and would not have to worry about crappy jobs for a long time.

He simply had to keep her alive.

Easy, right?

He shook his head to clear his mind of all those useless thoughts. Brooding got you distracted. Distraction got you killed. Keep your mind on the job, worry about life choices later.

First problem was to get in. He could see only one way they could do that unseen and unheard. He turned back to the girl, her silvery hair shimmering in the dim light of the early dawn.

"We go in like we came out", he told her, matter-of-factly. "Over your balcony. We can't use the door, and I don't want to draw attention by forcing a window. Can you climb a tree in this?" He indicated at her long, flouncy skirt, definitely the worse for wear after an eventful night.

Her hands buried in the fabric of the dress, grabbing it tightly, and he could have sworn they shook slightly. Her whole form radiated tension as she glanced once more at the dark building, but her mouth set in a determined line.

"I will manage", she just said, curtly.

He regarded her for a moment, then nodded and turned back to make his way to the mansion. She would manage, of that he was somehow sure. She had grown a truly obstinate streak, that one.

Strangely, he thought he liked that.

But when they stood under the large oak facing her balcony, he looked up and started to have doubts again. Sure, he could hand her up to the first bough. Sure, she could force her way through the leaves and branches upwards – but they might as well knock on the front door to announce they were coming, the noise that would make.

Frowning, he turned to face her. "This won't do, mousie", he said, indicating at her skirts once more. "Those blasted things will make one hell of a ruckus, going up that tree. You want everyone inside know we're coming, or do you want it to be a little surprise for your brother?"

She looked up, frowning too, and then she nodded and held out her hand to him. "Give me your dagger, please", she said.

With a shrug, he drew the dagger from his boot and handed it to her. She took it, drew a deep breath,and then hesitated for a moment, her other hand reaching into the folds of her skirt to pull out the knife she had taken back in the boathouse. She frowned, obviously thinking hard for a moment, and then unceremoniously closed her teeth around the slim handle of the knife, holding it firmly in her mouth while she pulled up the fabric of her skirt and then started to cut it with determined strokes right under the waist of her dress. A short moment later the underskirts had suffered the same fate, and she pulled the cloth down and over her feet, until only the metal hoops of the crinoline she wore underneath were left.

Without looking at him, she opened the clasp at the front and slowly let the hoops sink to the ground, then stepped out of the contraption, now wearing only the corsage of her dress and a few tatters of the skirts around her waist, over the soft, white fabric of her pantaloons.

Bishop stared at her for a few moments and felt his mouth go dry. It was not even that she wore less then, say, his breeches the day they had gone hunting together. But simply knowing that she was standing before him in her underwear made the situation seem a lot more intimate.

More tempting.

She kneeled to pick up his dagger, the other hand taking her knife out of her mouth, and caught him staring when she got up, even the semidarkness of early dawn not hiding the fact that colour was rising in her cheeks as she blushed furiously. But she did not look away, meeting his gaze with a provoking stare of her own, and her chin lifted challengingly as she offered him his weapon.

"Are we going to climb that tree, or not?" she asked.

Bishop mentally shook himself.

_Pull yourself together._

He would have to lift her up to the first bough, and then follow her up the tree, always looking up at her from below.

Bloody hells.

"We climb", he answered, his voice somewhat tight.

But he would not take her in his arms to lift her. No way.

Pressing his back against the trunk, Bishop bowed and cupped his hands to give her a leg up.

"Step in here, princess", he said. "I'll follow you."

With only the barest hesitation, she put her foot into his hands, her knife once again placed between her teeth and caught his shoulders to stabilize herself, bringing her face dangerously close to his. Bishop looked up, and his gaze met hers for an endless second, her eyes only inches away, framed by ringlets of that wonderful hair. He swallowed as some emotion he could not name stirred in him, and before he knew it, one of his hands reached up again and gently pushed one of the locks behind her ear.

"Take care not to cut yourself with this, mousie", he said softly, indicating at the knife in her mouth.

Then he shook himself inwardly. Damn. This would not do. What the hells was wrong with him?

Compressing his lips to a firm line, he bent down again before she could react, took her foot and shoved upwards, and she grabbed the bough with both hands, trying to pull herself onto it.

Still cursing inwardly, Bishop watched her process. He had to lift her, there was no helping it. Inhaling deeply, he took her legs, trying to keep the touch as impersonal as possible, and pushed her. She slid her belly over the bough, and then nimbly swung one leg over it, coming to sit.

Bishop hastily looked away, then jumped and grabbed the bough himself, swinging upwards.

Following the girl up the tree was no picnic. Not because she did bad. No, not at all. In fact, she proved to be surprisingly agile, and seemed to have a good instinct finding the right bough to grab, and the best place to put her feet.

That, or she was not the good little girl she pretended to be, and had climbed that particular tree a couple of times already.

No, the really bad part was that he was forced to watch from underneath as she lithely made her way up. In her underwear.

Trying to keep his thoughts on the task, Bishop did his best to watch her so she did not slip and fall, without staring.

Damn. Maybe he should make one last visit to the whore before he was out of this dump of a city for good? A bit hard to find female company in the woods, after all.

He drew a deep, relieved breath after he had finally – and with as little touching as possible – helped her onto the balcony of her room. It seemed years ago, not just a few short hours, that he had forced her to jump down the same balcony. Funny how things could change in such a short time.

He swiftly followed her over the balustrade and turned to her, seeing her face was pale, but determined.

"Fine, mousie", he said, forcing his voice to sound more calm than he felt. "How do you want to do this?"

"I want to speak with Damian alone", she said.

Bishop inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to object, but she stopped him with a swift gesture of her hand.

"No", she said. "This is _personal_. He is my brother, after all. I want to speak with him, and since I am paying you, we will do this my way." She paused for a moment. "You can wait by the door. If something...", she swallowed, "if something is not right, I will shout, and you can come in and... and do what you must."

With a sigh, Bishop raked his hands through his hair. "Alright, princess. Your life. As you said, you're paying me. Mind to give me my money upfront, in case something bad happens just because you're being stubborn as a mule?"

She stiffened at his words and drew herself up to her full height to glare at him.

"Yes", she replied, sounding rather miffed. "I _do_ mind."

He had to grin in spite of himself. "Thought so", he said.

xxx

Minutes later, Bishop stood in front of a door a little further down the lushly carpeted corridor that passed the girl's own room, staring at a cream coloured wallpaper, painted with tiny burgundy fleur-de-lis.

To his left, the corridor stretched for yards, the half a dozen dark, polished panelled doors probably leading to more of the family rooms. To his right, it opened to the huge entrance hall with its double stairs of white marble, hugging the curved walls in an elegant arc, and meeting again at the landing Bishop was facing. The stairs were flanked by a delicate, gilded banister that was highly decorative, but would not have prevented a child from toppling over. Behind the landing, a similarly long corridor stretched to the right, showing more of the dark, panelled doors, the one at its head leading to the girl's room.

Everything was too dark and too quiet, and it made him twitchy.

Bishop had nothing else to do but watch the scene and strain his ears, trying to hear what was going on inside the room, but no sound seeped through the heavy door. He had a nagging feeling in his stomach that just would not go away. All his instincts were screaming at him.

This was bloody stupid, it was. Bound to go horribly wrong. He just knew it.

_Of course you know, idiot. How could you let her go in there alone? It's inviting disaster. With a red carpet._

But she had insisted. And this was her deal. Her brother. Her money.

_Well, and it will never be yours if she dies in there. Really, since when do you listen to her commands?_

Cursing inwardly, Bishop turned to lay his ear on the door, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation in the room, but all he could hear was a faint murmur. Damn those thick doors. Maybe it was even padded from the inside.

He put a finger in his mouth, turning back to watch the corridor, nervously biting the nail, then put it down and cursed for real this time when he realized what he was doing.

This was idiocy. To hell with what _she_ wanted. If she thought it a good idea to die because she was being stupid, fine. But not if that meant he was not getting paid.

_Sure. That's all you're worried about, right?_

_Damn right._

Well. Enough waiting. She'd had a couple of minutes, that would have to suffice.

Just when Bishop was about to turn to the door, to yank it open, he heard a noise that made him freeze, his hands darting to his scimitars.

The sound of doors being opened. As in plural. As in simultaneously.

_Trap! I _knew_ it!_

Along the corridor, a door had opened, and two men stepped out, both carrying heavy maces in their hands and a nasty grin on their faces. Both impressively built and looking alarmingly confident.

They were only two. But there had been the noise of another door opening. Down in the entrance hall.

Bishop whirled around, and indeed, three more men were already partly up the stairs at the opposite end of the hall. Two were carrying bows, and one was wearing robes – and a particularly annoying smirk on his clean shaved face.

"Fuck!", Bishop gritted out between clenched teeth.

_You're sitting duck here! And she's inside, alone with that bastard brother!_

A cold tendril of fear wound around Bishop's stomach, and it was not only because he was facing four heavily armed men and one mage.

_Inside! To the girl. Now!_

Only a second after the men had appeared, Bishop spun again, his hands reaching for the door handle. Hasty footsteps were approaching from the corridor, and a delighted, melodious laugh from the hall made his hackles rise as he found the door to be firmly shut, not even rattling in its hinges as he frantically pushed.

"I'm afraid I sealed this magically", a dulcet voice sounded. "Only the sister was allowed to pass. You will have to stay and play with us, it seems."

Bishop had not even time to curse again. "Watch out, mousie! Trap!", he yelled and spun back to the corridor, his scimitars practically leaping into his hands.

Out of pure instinct, he ducked and rolled forward, jumping to his feet again just as a mace, two arrows and a nastily hissing, glowing green dart imbedded themselves into the door where he had just stood.

The second fighter seemed to have thought ahead a bit, because it was his mace that connected painfully with Bishop's shoulder just as he got to his feet.

He winced slightly with the sudden pain. Ouch.

Retreating slowly, he slashed with one scimitar and stabbed his attacker with the other, leaving a bleeding mark on his chest while the man was deflecting the first blow with the mace.

The other one was slowly approaching, but Bishop felt confident he could take out these two. They seemed to know what they were doing, but they were no match for him. If only…

…if only there had not been the other three. Two more arrows whizzed dangerously close over his head as he ducked.

Suddenly, the floor around him erupted with huge, waving black tentacles. The two fighters hastily retreated as the tentacles reached for Bishop. Spewing profanities, he hacked at one tentacle, severing it – only to see it grow back immediately. At the same time, an arrow grazed his arm, leaving a bloody, if shallow wound.

A sinking feeling settled into his stomach. This was so not good.

One tentacle tried to wind around his leg, while he could feel another snake along his back. And these things looked strong. He would bet all his prospective forty thousand gold that it would be no fun if they got hold of him.

_Have to get out here. Like now._

_That mage has to go._

_And when he's gone… maybe the door will open._

_But I will never make it through that field of tentacles. Not fast, anyway. They will pick me off with arrows and spells._

_So, if I can't get through… what's left?_

These thoughts racing through his mind in the fraction of a second, Bishop tried to estimate the distance to the banister.

Three, maybe four yards.

Hard, with no run-up, but doable.

Bishop took a standing jump, putting all his strength behind it, leaping into the air. More arrows and a nasty looking flaming bolt whizzed by him as he jumped to the railing, tentacles waving around him, trying to grab him.

It truly was a hard jump, and he barely reached the banister. His hands full with his scimitars, he could not grab it to stabilize himself, so he pushed with his feet as well as he could, giving himself the last bit of velocity to reach the other side.

More slipping than jumping, he slid down, the banister scraping his back, and fell down to the bottom of the hall, bringing his feet under his body to break the fall as much as possible.

The landing was not what he would have called elegant. He tried to roll, but there was only so much he could do, given his less than ideal launch. He felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg and gasped, limping a few steps forward, until he felt certain that no really bad damage had been done, nothing more than a sprain.

But he was down in the hall. Away from the grasping tentacles. And that wizard in his reach. _So _much better.

Bishop looked up with a grim smile on his face at the mage, whose eyes had suddenly grown large, the smug grin replaced by a worried expression when he realized his opponent was closing in.

Behind him, Bishop could hear cursing as the fighters tried to make their way through the field of tentacles, and out of the corners of his eyes he could see the bowmen scurrying up the stairs, reaching for new arrows. But his focus stayed fixed on the mage, his smile slowly widening as he twirled his scimitars, their blades making a hissing noise rushing through the air.

He saw the mage grow pale and retreat while his hands wove another pattern in the air and his mouth formed unintelligible words. Five glowing arrows formed next to him and started darting towards Bishop who ducked and rolled again under the speeding missiles, his gaze still fixed on the mage. Two wooden arrows whooshed over his head, but the glowing missiles simply swerved with him and hit him into the back.

Bishop yelled as he could feel his skin sizzling where the glowing bolts had hit. That hurt. Obviously the mage had had enough of him dodging all his spells and had bethought himself of the basics. Those missiles never missed. Nasty little buggers.

No more playing around. His own fault for showing off instead of finishing that maggoty mage off as quickly as possible. Bishop rushed up to the wizard as fast as he could, but not before another set of glowing arrows hit him in the chest. This time, Bishop gritted his teeth against the pain, suppressing the yell. But he could feel himself slowly weakening. He would have to finish this soon, or things would go bad indeed.

His scimitars shot out simultaneously, piercing the wizard's belly. Bishop watched the man's eyes glaze over and with a hard yank ripped his weapons upwards to the sternum, slicing him open like a gutted fish. The eyes broke, and the mouth opened, shooting out a gush of bright red blood.

Mages. Mighty from afar, but stick them with a sword, and they died real fast. Overconfident, too – no protective spells whatsoever. Probably had relied on his four fighter friends to keep Bishop away.

Thank the gods for sheer stupidity.

Bishop whirled and ducked again, but not quickly enough this time to avoid both arrows that where coming at him. One of them grazed his already hurting shoulder, leaving another bleeding gash.

Both of the shooters were halfway up the stairs by now, firing arrows as fast as they could. The fighters had crossed the tentacles and reached the foot of the stairs, approaching from both sides.

The mage was out of the picture, but things were still not looking rosy.

Already they had crossed the remaining distance and slowly circled him, flanking him. Not good. Not good at all. His scimitars were nearly worthless for blocking the blows of the heavy, two handed maces. He would have to take these two out quickly before they could do too much damage. Those blows hurt.

And there were still the two marksmen up the stairs.

The fighter in front of him swung, and Bishop ducked, slipping under the heavy blow, dealing his own strike to the man's leg. The blow from behind went over his head with a whooshing noise, the air current actually moving his hair, and Bishop felt deeply thankful that it had missed his head. Had that connected… well, he would have been out cold. Best case. Worst case, it would have cracked his skull open like a nut.

The first opponent's leg buckled under Bishop's weapon and Bishop dove, desperate to escape from between the two fighters. He let himself fall on his back, one of his scimitars driving into the first attacker's throat, then swung his legs upward, over his head and flipped backwards in a roll, coming to his knees.

The man gurgled and sagged, while the other let out a yell of fury, advancing on Bishop. On his knees, he was at a severe disadvantage. He leaped upwards, but not fast enough to avoid the next attack completely. The heavy mace connected with his ribs, and Bishop hissed as he felt something crack, and a dull pain spread outwards from the area. One rib broken. At the least.

Damn. These were no slouches.

And the girl still up there somewhere with the brother.

His movements not as graceful now, with his leg and ribs hurting and exhaustion starting to make his arms heavy, Bishop barely avoided the next two arrows whirring in his direction.

Luckily for him, his opponent followed his movement and turned, putting himself into one of the arrow's way. It hit him squarely in the temple. The man went down like a log. Barely believing his luck, Bishop drew a deep breath. Another blow like the last one would not have been good. Those heavy maces left an impression. Literally.

Still the two marksmen to go. But things were looking up slightly.

He lifted his eyes to search for the two remaining opponents, but something else caught his eye, and he froze.

The tentacles had vanished, and where they had been, something else appeared: A head of silvery blond hair. There the girl was, slowly retreating with her back to the banister.

And facing her, a slender blond man, his hair as light as hers, his face a mask of cold fury. A rapier in hand.

A huge block of ice seemed to form in Bishop's stomach as he watched. His mind snapped back only seconds later though, as an arrow pierced his thigh. He yelled at the sudden pain, but the yell dwindled to a pained moan as another arrow went straight through his leathers, imbedding itself in his side.

His armour had just served to slow it down enough so the head got stuck in his flesh, hurting like hell.

Bishop gasped as the searing pain spread. This was definitely the worst hit yet. But still he had been incredibly lucky. Piercing his stomach low on the side, it had not damaged anything vital. Probably.

Despite his predicament, his gaze was drawn up again. The girl had retreated until her legs touched the railing. The brother stood in front of her, and for a moment, his cold gaze went past her, meeting Bishop's eyes. His lips lifted in a nasty smile, and he raised the rapier.

Touching it to the girl's throat.

"No!", Bishop yelled as the icy block in his stomach seemed to melt, flooding him with hot panic.

Forcing his battered body to move, one arrow sticking out of his leg, the other out of his guts, he limped to the stairs as fast as he could.

Knowing he would never reach her in time.


	14. The End of all Things, Part 1

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

The door to the study opened without as much as a sound.

Liliana paused in the doorway, her hand still on the handle, and cast a last glance back at Bishop who was leaning against the wall beside the door, his grim stare meeting hers squarely in the dim light of the corridor. He was still not happy with her decision, she could tell, his body practically radiating tension as he raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, a question in his eyes.

_Want me to come with you?_

She glanced up at him, into his unusual eyes, and for the length of a heartbeat, she felt the same inexplicable pull towards him that she had already felt back at the hut, and even just a short while ago while they had been standing in front of that tree, as he had given her a leg up. The beat of her heart sped up ever so slightly as she caught a whiff of his scent, and Liliana immediately took a small step to back away, cursing her treacherous body not for the first time this night.

Why did she always have to be affected when he got close to her? And why did he still have to be so annoying and confusing? Coming all this way to boast that he wanted to kill her, only to gently push that lock of hair out of her eyes, his voice soft, almost caring when he had warned her about the knife still in her hand?

She did not want that kind of confusion, especially when he was concerned, and so she resolutely shook her head, giving him her answer. Bishop shrugged, his posture telling her clearly that he did not consider this his problem any longer, and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leaned more comfortably against the wall, his eyes leaving hers to wander down the hallway to scan their surroundings - but she did not need to see his face to know what he was thinking.

_Stubborn as a mule._

Maybe he had been right about that one. It certainly would explain why she was here now, with him by her side and her clothes a mess because she simply could not let one of his challenges go unanswered, driven by that inexplicable urge to prove herself. She knew that it would be best to take him with her, to not confront Damian on her own, but his closeness only seemed to lead to distraction and confusion and she could not take it right now, not when her life was such a mess already.

_And like I said, this is private,_ Liliana thought as she willed herself to step through the door._ I will speak with Damian, and if things should go ill… he is waiting right outside the door._

That thought was strangely consoling, though, and so she cast Bishop a last, trembling smile before she stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind her. Her neck was prickling uncomfortably as she crossed the threshold, and she shivered, her eyes nervously taking in how the shadows danced across the wall, cast by the lanterns that were standing on the large desk on the opposite side of the room.

And there, with his back to her, sat Damian, wearing a frock made of dark red silk, and the only sound disturbing the silence was the soft scratching of a quill on paper.

"Is it done?" he asked calmly without looking up.

"Not quite."

He tensed when he recognised her voice, not moving or saying anything for a moment or two. Then she could see his shoulders straightening, and he put down his quill, the light of the lantern reflecting on its metal tip.

"I see," he stated still in that eerily calm voice before slowly standing up from behind his desk, and Liliana's heart gave a painful squeeze when she met his cool stare across the room. His eyes wandered over her face and then down her body, widening noticeably at the sight, and Liliana could feel heat creep up in her cheeks when she followed his gaze and was forcefully reminded of the fact that she had cut off her skirts in order to climb that tree, which left her now standing in front of her brother in nothing but rags.

"Pity," Damian stated dryly when his eyes returned to her face, the ghost of a smile lifting the corners of his lips. "It was such a beautiful design."

Strangely enough, that comment brought the simmering anger and hurt in her blood to a boil. To think of the nightmare that she had been through, back at the hut and even this very night, all because of him and his schemes, and he _dared_ to be so unperturbed?

"Oh, stop it," she hissed, the hurt and anger now swirling in her chest, making it hard to breathe. "What _the hells_ has gotten into you?"

Damian raised one of his eyebrows quizzically, and so she went on, her voice sharp with accusation all of a sudden.

"I spoke with Bishop, and he claims that you hired him to get me killed!"

"I did," Damian agreed, completely undisturbed by her sudden outburst. She had dreaded these words, all the way over the lake and through the park, but to hear him say it so coolly, almost casually, as if they were talking about nothing but the weather… it felt as if a bucket of icy water had just been emptied over her head, making her stop dead in her tracks, her anger cooling almost instantaneously to leave nothing but hurt and confusion in its wake.

_This cannot be true. He… he is my brother. It _can't _be true!_

Her internal struggle must have been clearly visible on her face, because Damian's eyes narrowed as he watched her, a hint of impatience flickering across his handsome face.

"Please, sister, spare me your faked moment of indignation. You can play the innocent lamb all you like, but we both know that you have expected this. If I was to step outside this door – would I step into an empty corridor? Not likely. We both know who is waiting outside, and about his agenda. And it is not _I_ who entered this study carrying arms."

_What?_

She had almost forgotten that she was still holding the knife in her hand, since she simply had no other place where to put it, now that her skirts were gone, and for a moment she stared down at the keen edge, the shock at its sight and what it seemed to represent to her brother battling with the heat that had crept into her cheeks as he had mentioned Bishop – and had assumed correctly that he was indeed waiting outside the door.

Damian smiled thinly, obviously enjoying to see her so uncomfortable all of a sudden, and she gulped, feeling the walls of sanity slowly crumbling around her. "I don't understand!"

He snorted. "Of course not. And how could you, considering how much time you have spent _not_ paying attention to what is going on around you?"

That made her stare at him for a moment, her eyes wide.

"What do you mean?" she finally asked, his words sending an icy shiver down her spine.

Damian's gaze was cool when he spoke.

"Honestly, Liliana, what did you ever do that has been of any use to this family?"

"I am not saying that it is all your fault," he went on, his voice as chilling as his gaze while he slowly began to saunter across the room. "They coddled you and raised you like a little princess, so what could we expect? Mother always wanted to marry you off to one of those rich saps, and they prefer their women pretty and stupid, after all."

"But then, what do they do?" His voice got sharper. "They are giving you half of the family fortune, along with half of our business as well. A half of what by right should be mine, now in your hands – to take care of it, to nurture it, to manage it."

"But… we are both his children," was the first thing that came to her mind, and Liliana almost flinched when she heard the apologetic note in her voice. "Father just thought it was fair…"

Damian lifted his hand sharply, and she fell silent, her heart giving a terrible squeeze when she saw his eyes darken with something that looked conspicuously like contempt.

"So since you have been named the heir of half of our family empire – what did you do in these past months to learn more about our trade, Liliana? Do you know our contacts, where all our local branches are? What is the price for wool in Silverymoon? And how much coin can I get for a bundle of ivory from Chult?"

His voice was cool, just like his stare, mercilessly demanding an answer, and the unexpected contempt in his eyes cut like a knife, leaving her bleeding. Her thoughts were chasing each other like mice inside her head now, memories of how Damian had approached her after her birthday, wanting to talk to her about his work and how she had put him off because one appointment had always seemed to follow another until he had finally stopped asking…

A part of her was screaming at her not to listen to his words, that he was just trying to manipulate her into believing that this was all _her_ fault, that she needed to get out of here… but her shock at these unexpected revelations was rooting her to the spot, and still he moved through the room, slowly gliding closer, circling her, like a cat watching its prey.

"I… but Papa said it wasn't necessary…"

Damian laughed, just once, a harsh sound that held no pleasure.

"Of course. So instead of learning more about our profession, you decided to pick the shoes that would go best with your wedding dress."

His mouth lifted in something close to disgust. "So please forgive me if I am not too thrilled with the present constellation."

"And as if that wasn't bad enough, you had to decide to give it all over to that Silverton fool!"

Liliana stared at him, her eyes wide, her mind still processing his words, but she simply could not believe them. She did not know what to make of the stranger who was talking to her now, that young man with the cold eyes and so much contempt in his voice. What happened to her loving brother, the one who would sneak some food into her room when she had been sent up as a child because she had misbehaved?

Memories of their time together were bombarding her, caused by the conflicting emotions that were now raging inside her, and Liliana fought hard to fight them down to keep at least a shred of common sense, the icy numbness of disbelief slowly thawing, igniting the first sparks of dread in her belly.

_Reason_, whispered the voice in her mind, urgently. _Appeal to reason, to solve the problem, to make it go away!_

"But… Damian, if you felt so strongly about it… you just should have said something," she replied, her voice pleading. "You can have it all. I never asked for it, and it is much better off in your hands, anyway!"

Damian chuckled again, and she flinched at the harsh sound.

"Do you really think that father would agree to that now?" her brother asked, his voice biting with sarcasm. "He announced it publicly on your birthday, right after that pillock had proposed. Even if he wanted to, it would now be a public affront against one of the most influential families here in Waterdeep. Everyone knows that dear Cedric will own half of this business as soon as he makes you his wife, after all."

"But… could you not simply run the business together?"

Her voice was trembling now and she hated herself for it, but her mind was still unwilling to accept the truth, grasping for every straw she could reach. Damian's mouth contorted as if he had bitten on something both sour and vile.

"Having your darling Cedric as a partner makes me feel only marginally more comfortable than working with you, dear sister, I can assure you. As a businessman, he has no instincts whatsoever, just like the rest of his family – the only reason that the whole lot of them is not impoverished by now is because they are _nobility_, and their name still carries some weight."

He leaned back casually against one of his small desks, and his sudden smile was deceptively sweet, mocking her and her misery.

"Did you really think that the Silvertons allowed their favourite son to marry you because you have a pretty face and know your table manners? Cedric's father made a very bad business decision not so long ago, and do you know what that botch has cost him? Word is on the street that he lost more than _250,000_ gold coins due to that misadventure. Can you imagine what an incredible amount of wealth that is, Liliana?"

"And now look at dear Cedric," Damian concluded, raising his arms in a rather dramatic fashion, the sudden movement almost toppling an expensive looking rapier that was displayed on the desk. His voice was still dripping with venom. "Bringing all that lost fortune back to the family, simply by shagging up with you!"

"Do you really think father has been running this business all these years, sister? I have worked very hard all my life to get us the wealth and power that we have now. It were _my_ plans, _my_ schemes that secured our success, and I would rather see you _both_ dead before I watch you and your sweetheart ruin it all!"

Suddenly, there was a commotion right outside the room, and both Damian and Liliana turned their head towards the door at the sound of voices coming from the hallway, one with wide, frightened eyes, the others narrowed in concentration.

"Watch out, mousie! Trap!"

The shout was coming from the other side of the door, more than a bit muffled by the padded wood, and still Liliana's heart gave another terrible squeeze when she recognised the speaker, the blood running hot and cold in her veins when she saw Damian's eyebrows shoot up at the words, and the taunting smile that lit his face left her cheeks flaming.

"_Mousie?_" His grin widened, and Liliana felt goose bumps rise all over her body. She had gotten so used to Bishop calling her by that name that she had never truly realised how… intimate it sounded. But one look at Damian's face brought that realisation up almost brutally, and for a moment, Liliana wished desperately that the earth would simply open up and swallow her whole.

"And here I thought after all that sitting in the Font of Knowledge that you had tried to dig up something about his past, to blackmail him into helping you out – while you were using one of the oldest tricks in the book!"

His smile turned malicious in a heartbeat.

"Sister, sister," he purred, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I never took you for _that_ type. What would dear Cedric have to say if he knew that his beloved Liliana invited a killer into her bed just to get him to do her dirty work for her?"

The accusation was both so far away and yet so painfully close to the truth that Liliana could feel all blood rushing from her face while her embarrassment and anger were still battling strongly in her chest, the intensity of her emotions choking her.

"Don't you _dare_…," she hissed, but her voice caught in her throat and she had to blink her eyes to keep the tears at bay that threatened to rise, but if it were tears of fear or frustration, she could not tell.

There were more noises from outside the door, a loud banging as if someone was knocking repeatedly against the solid wood, and Liliana flinched when she could hear men shouting.

"What did you do?" she asked, her voice trembling more forcefully this time. Damian cast her an amused smile.

"Greyburgh was right, you know – your friend has a truly impressive reputation. Which I now think must be completely exaggerated, considering how easily he lets himself get distracted by a pretty face."

His smile was gone as fast as it had appeared, and she shivered under the sudden intensity of his gaze, her fear beginning to coil in her belly.

"However, it is like I said, Liliana – I always win my games."

"There are men outside, taking care of your friend. And if you are hoping that the commotion will alert the guards or _someone_ to come to your aid and end this unfortunate affair," here his smile returned, cruel, catlike. "I am sorry to disappoint you."

"No one will come – none of the servants, none of the watchmen and certainly not that nosy governess of yours. Magic is a truly wonderful thing!"

He grinned, one of his hands now gently caressing the handle of the rapier.

"They will all wake up tomorrow when this is long over, and no one will ever be the wiser how it has happened. And once your friend is dead, it will be so easy to blame him and to wash my hands of it all."

_Bishop… dead?_

A different kind of fear gripped her heart at his words, and without really thinking, she turned around and bolted for the door, reaching for the handle and trying to yank it open, driven by the burning desire to get out into the hallway, to come to his aid, to warn him… but the door would not move an inch, and her hands started to prickle uncomfortably as soon as she touched the cool metal of the knob.

"Like I said – magic is a truly wonderful thing!"

She whirled around, her heart in her throat, and watched in growing alarm how Damian's hand had closed firmly around the hilt of the rapier now, a malicious glint in his eyes.

"I had the study sealed, you know?" he explained, his voice so sickeningly smug. "No one but you or the assassin was allowed to enter, and now that you are here, no one will be able to leave unless I am telling the mage to lift the spell."

"I always hoped it would not come to this," he stated, but a small frown aside there were no signs on his face that he felt any remorse about their current situation. "The gods do not look kindly on siblings killing each other, but considering how much efforts I took to avoid this, I have come to think of it as maybe some kind of trial – to see if I am willing to go all the way for my plans to succeed."

His gaze was cool, his grey eyes boring into hers, giving her nothing.

"And I do not intent to falter!"

He drew the rapier with a quick motion, the sharp, metallic sound as the blade left its sheath making her feel sick. His strides slow but unwavering, he quietly moved through the room towards her, the weapon firmly in hand and his face showing no sign of guilt or conflict, and Liliana backed away from him, circling around the study, her own hand now gripping the handle of her knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Damian… _please_…"

_This is not happening. This _can't_ be happening. This is a nightmare, and tomorrow I will wake up, and all this will be gone…_

Her fear was eating her alive now, and she let out a small squeal when she hit her leg forcefully on the pedestal that carried the bowl with Flotsam and Jetsam, the sharp pain in her thigh nothing compared to the pain in her heart. It had been only a short distraction, but when Liliana looked up, she felt a bolt of shock race through her when she saw that Damian had used this opportunity and had almost closed the distance between them.

"Do not fight me, sister," Damian stated in that cursed calm voice, his eyes still showing nothing but that unnerving determination. "The less you struggle, the easier this will be for both of us!"

He lifted the rapier, and with a small scream that was born from utmost despair, Liliana lifted her own hand and threw her knife. The weapon flew in a clumsy arc, but it was enough. It hit Damian squarely across his thigh, and the magically sharpened blade left a long, bleeding gash in his flesh, his blood quickly staining the red of his silken frock.

Damian hissed with the sudden pain and retreated a step, and Liliana flinched when a flash of light suddenly caught her eye. She looked towards the door, and for the length of a heartbeat, she was certain to see it glow in a bright azure light, but it was gone so quickly that she could not be certain.

Had the magical barrier been weakened somehow?

Her heart sped up ever so slightly at that thought. If she could get out of this room, into the hallway…

"That was not a smart thing to do, sister," Damian gritted out, and her attention snapped back to her brother, startled by the cold fury she could now see in his eyes. "This little scratch won't stop me – and now you have no weapon!"

And it was in this very moment, here in his room, that she saw him for the first time.

Not the brother that she had thought to love, but the stranger with the cool eyes whose face had been sharpened by ambition and greed without being balanced by compassion, hiding his cold, unfeeling self behind a mask of courtesy and pretty words to keep up the charade to the world… and in that moment, the moment of realisation that this must be his _true_ self, that all that she had known about her brother had been nothing a carefully crafted lie, Liliana felt all her fear ebb away to be replaced by a strange, cold feeling, a dark maelstrom born from hurt and despair and the sharp pain of shattered dreams, and her heart was hurting so bad all of a sudden that she feared it might stop any moment.

"You see," Liliana finally replied, her voice shaking. "I don't need to scratch you that often."

She indicated at the weapon lying at his feet with a trembling hand while she slowly retreated a step, inching closer towards the door.

"That knife was poisoned, and by now, that poison is already in your blood. Soon, you will not be able to move your legs, then your arms… and when it reaches your heart…" She swallowed, and her voice caught. "You will die."

Damian's eyes narrowed dangerously at her words.

"You're bluffing!" he demanded, but the frown did not leave his face.

Liliana shook her head, feeling a strange wave of satisfaction well through her, and the smile on her face could be best described as a grimace as she took another careful step backwards.

"No, it's no bluff. Take it as a farewell present from your second assassin."

A strange expression flickered across his face, and his hands gripped the hilt of his rapier more tightly as he raised it for another attack, his voice an angry hiss as he spoke.

"Seems I'll have to hurry, then."

With a shout, Liliana leaned forward to press her hands firmly against the fishbowl, pushing it from its pedestal with all her strength. It shattered into thousand pieces right on the floor between them, sending a huge splash of water everywhere along with the shards, and Damian retreated even further, trying to avoid both the water and the glass.

The two fishes sizzled and disappeared in a shower of sparks as soon as their spell was broken, but Liliana's mind barely registered it because in the very moment the bowl hit the ground, she whirled around and sprinted towards the door, her relief knowing no bounds when she was able to press down the handle and to hurry onwards into the hallway, the sounds of Damian's pursuing footsteps echoing loudly in her ears.

Something hit her hard in her back, and she screamed, her feet stumbling on the carpet, and she had to slow down to prevent herself from falling, the unexpected incident effectively stopping her flight. She looked down, puzzled, and her eyes widened when she saw the heavy bronze sextant now lying on the floor, her back stinging so badly that she was certain that its sharp edges might have drawn blood.

"Nice try."

Damian was now standing in the door of his study, his face a mask of cold fury, the rapier still firmly in hand.

"But you will not get away with this, sister, that I promise."

He made another step forward, and Liliana's heart felt as if it was squeezed in a vice-like grip when she saw his wounded leg give out beneath him, making him stumble towards her, and she hastily retreated further down the hallway, towards the stairs that led down into the great hall.

But Damian caught himself quickly, the grip around his weapon tightening as he followed her towards the stairs, his steps strangely jerky.

"I will make you pay for this, sister," he hissed, but she could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "And once you're dead, I will take care of that poison of yours, don't you worry."

There came a scream from somewhere down in the great hall, full of pain, and Liliana's heart skipped a beat when she recognised Bishop's voice. She whirled around, her heart in her throat, and it gave another terrible squeeze when she saw him standing down in the hall in a strangely huddled position.

There were men lying all around him on the floor in pools of blood, their bodies distorted in death, and the scream along with the way he was clutching his side showed her clearly that he was hurt, but at least he was still standing.

_He's alive!_

Her relief was short-lived, however, when she heard a soft chuckle from behind, and when she turned, it felt like her innards had been coated with ice when she saw that Damian was now standing right in front of her, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

She made a quick step back, and felt her heart skip another beat when her knees hit the banister… which left her with no place left to go.

"How touching." Her brother's gaze went past her for a moment, and an evil smile played on his lips when his eyes returned to her. "Don't tell me you are truly worried about his safety, Liliana? Maybe I was wrong?"

He lifted the rapier almost casually to her throat, and Bishop yelled once more, full of alarm this time. Damian's smile widened, like a cat staring at the cream pot, as if that shout had given him the final answer to a question that he had been asking himself for a long time.

"Maybe you did not use your body to trick him, after all," he murmured, his voice mockingly sweet, and full of derision. "Maybe this is _true love_?"

He leaned forward, and Liliana gasped when she felt the tip of the rapier nipping her skin ever so slightly because Damian's arm had begun shaking all of a sudden.

"After all the trouble his treachery has given me, I will enjoy the look on his face when I kill you," he murmured almost conspiratorially, and Liliana felt her body go rigid with fright, her mind screaming in panic while her eyes were fixed on the gleaming blade of the rapier, its tip less than an inch away from her throat…

But then Damian gasped, his leg giving out beneath him once more, and only her instincts saved her life when Liliana unconsciously shied away at his sudden movement, his rapier only gliding along her shoulder where mere moments ago her throat had been.

It still stung, and she gasped with the sudden pain, taking another stumbling step away from him, to the side. Damian looked up at her, his face contorted with anger, and then he pushed himself up firmly onto his feet once more, the hand holding the rapier swaying widely as he tried to keep his balance, suddenly lunging forward to stab her in the belly…

Liliana jumped aside with a panicked yell, and the rapier only left nothing but a bleeding gash in her side because Damian missed his aim, his jerky momentum carrying him further… and he suddenly let go of the rapier, the blade clattering loudly as it hit the floor while his hands were now clawing at his chest, his face contorted in pain…

… and with a shocked yell, he tumbled against the banister, his injured leg giving out under the sudden strain, and he fell to the side and toppled over the balustrade, barely managing to close his hands around the polished stone to keep himself from falling to the ground right away.

_And when it reaches your heart... you will die._

"Lily!"

She flinched when he was calling her by her nickname, his voice pleading with her all of a sudden and his eyes wide while he clung to the balustrade for his very life, without a trace of the malice that she had seen in these very eyes mere moments ago. He was terrified, she could see, and it filled her to equal parts with fright and satisfaction.

"_Lily!_" he begged, more urgent this time, but she still did not move, her feet rooted to the spot while tears began to well up in her eyes. There were shouts to her right, the sounds of people fighting, but all she could concentrate on was that pair of large grey eyes, staring at her imploringly, the eyes of the brother she remembered and not those of the stranger he had become. And still, she just watched, unmoving, doing nothing.

Then suddenly his face contorted with pain as the first true spasm hit him, and with a strangled scream that made her want to cover her ears with her hands, he fell, his body connecting with the stone floor of the great hall with a squishy wet noise that made her stomach churn so forcefully that for a moment, Liliana truly feared to be sick.

For a little while, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing, the beat of her heart still pulsating like mad in her ears. Slowly, almost dreamlike, she walked up to the railing, her feet mechanically carrying her forward until she was able to stare down into the hall, at Damian's broken body.

His arms and limbs were still twitching, almost like an insect, and blood was flowing from a wound in his skull, forming a rapidly growing pool of blood beneath him, the red liquid surrounding his head like a halo. His eyes were wide and bulging, staring up at the ceiling, and his last moment of terror and pain had been edged clearly into his face, the sight of his silent scream presenting a truly ghastly view... but strangely enough, Liliana felt nothing, no hurt, no fear, no remorse, as if her mind was simply processing the images without truly understanding their meaning – her thoughts seemingly spinning in circles, never reaching an end.

There was the sound of uneven footsteps approaching, but Liliana barely registered it, her eyes staying fixed on her brother's face even as someone grabbed her shoulders roughly from behind, shaking her slightly.

It was only a small movement but it was enough for her right side to give a sharp pang as she was rocked back and forth with the motion, but the pain felt as distant as her thoughts, her mind obviously unable to process her body's reactions properly anymore... and so she did nothing to ease said pain, her eyes still staring down into the hallway in some kind of sick fascination. The pool of blood was still growing as it flowed freely from Damian's body, making his hair move lazily with the flow.

_Like silvery seaweed in an ocean of blood._

Someone gasped as if in pain, and the hands that had just closed around her shoulders let go just as quickly, and her nose twitched at the scent of leather and sweat that now invaded her nostrils.

"You alright?"

A voice was talking to her, its sound strangely familiar, the words rough and breathless and with a hint of alarm, but still she did not react, her mind listening to the words without really understanding.

"Hey, I'm talking here. He hurt you?"

A calloused hand reached for her, roughly touching her shoulder and her side where the rapier had cut her, but she did not even wince at the touch, the pain still feeling strangely distant while she kept staring at the corpse, and it kept staring at the ceiling.

"Princess! Hey!"

The hand gripped her chin in a vice-like grip and then forced her to look up into a ruggedly handsome face, its pale, sweaty skin darkened by a shadow of facial hair and spots of red blood, the unusually light brown eyes burning her with their intensity... and for a very long moment, she did not recognise him.

"Bishop?" she finally asked hesitatingly, her voice shaking.

His grip around her chin was painful, almost hard enough to bruise.

"So glad to see you're still in there," he said, his usually deep voice sounding not as breathless as before, but the words still came out surprisingly forced. His hand let go of her chin, wandering back to her side to touch her wound, and this time, she winced as he probed it skilfully with his fingers, the pain finally enough to pierce the haze that seemed to cloud her mind.

"Any other wounds?" he asked rather sharply. His burning gaze returned to her as she did not reply and she shook her head, her mind slowly trying to catch up on what had happened around her.

"He is dead", she stated calmly after a moment, as if it was the right answer to his question. Bishop's eyes narrowed noticeably at her words.

"No kidding", he replied, his gaze watchful as it searched hers. "Saw it happen. And don't you think you had a choice there, understand? It was you or him up here. _His_ choice, not yours." His eyes wandered down into the hall for a moment, and his face darkened. "If he had gotten his way, that would be you down there, got that? So don't you start flogging yourself, you hear me? He had it coming."

_Lily!_

His words stirred the memory of a call, a faint echo in her mind followed closely by a panicked screech, and Liliana frowned at the sinking feeling that spread through her stomach all of a sudden, the unwelcome sensation making her shudder. The haze around her mind was slowly beginning to disperse, her thoughts getting sharper by the minute, and now that they did, she became aware of the maelstrom of hurt and pain that was raging inside her, just outside that cloudy haze that seemed to seal off her mind, and the thought of what would happen to her should that haze finally disappear made her shiver.

Bishop was talking to her again, but she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she did not pay any attention to him until she was grabbed forcefully by her shoulders once more. This time, he shook her vehemently, making her teeth rattle before he grabbed her chin roughly again, forcing her to look up into his eyes while squeezing hard, and the unexpected pain in her jaw was finally enough to make her attention snap back to him.

"Hey!" he said sharply. "You stay with me, alright? Get a grip. You said you were good with bandages, didn't you? Well, now's the time to prove it, princess. I need you to get those out of me." His gaze flickered down his body for a moment, then went back to bore into her eyes, and he shook her again, just once. "Hear me? I can't do it myself. I need you to help me."

Her eyes were watering from the pain, spreading rapidly from the place where he was squeezing her chin so tightly, but strangely enough the ache seemed to help to clear her mind even further, and she blinked her eyes, feeling as if she saw, _truly_ saw him for the first time since they had parted in front of Damian's study.

His tanned face looked unusually pale even in the dim light of dawn, sweaty and bloody, his armour stained with blood and other unsavoury bits that she really did not want to dwell on, and it was only now that Liliana realised that the hand that was holding her was shaking ever so slightly, and that two arrows were stuck in his flesh, one in his leg and one in his side.

"You're bleeding!" she gasped, her eyes widening in something close to shock, her hand reaching out for him instinctively. Bishop flinched before she could even touch him, his hand finally letting go of her chin, and so she stopped, her fingers mere inches away from the wound.

"I've had worse," he stated through slightly gritted teeth. "But these two have to go, and fast. You have bandages, mousie? Sheets? Towels?"

Her mind was still a bit slow on the uptake, and so for a moment, all she could do was to stare up at him while she slowly processed his words.

_I can't do it myself. I need you to get these out of me._

_You have bandages, mousie? Sheets? __Towels?_

An image of Nerdanel suddenly came to her mind, the half-elf teaching her how to make bandages from linen sheets and how to treat all different kinds of wounds, taking all their exercise materials out of a small wooden box.

A wooden box which was hidden somewhere in her wardrobe right now, right in her bedroom.

"Yes," she finally replied, her voice only quivering ever so slightly. "Yes, I have."

_He's hurt. I need to help him!_

Without further hesitation, she slipped under his shoulder and put her arm around his chest to take some weight from the injured leg, careful not to touch the arrow in his side in the process, and slowly led him back to her room and the adjusting bathroom, the two of them stumbling down the hallway like an over-sized, malformed crab.


	15. The End of all Things, Part 2

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

* * *

The house was still eerily silent as they finally reached Liliana's suite, her room nothing more but a shadowy space filled with various shapes in different shades of grey, dimly lit by the first light of dawn. Bishop collapsed on the rim of her tub as soon as they reached the adjoining bathroom, making a sound that got stuck somewhere between a growl and a moan, his breathing heavy.

They had taken their time to hobble to her room together and he had not shown a single sign of pain during their walk, but Liliana could see the small drops of sweat now forming on his forehead when he lowered himself onto the tub, her heart calling out to him all of a sudden.

_These must hurt like hell_, she thought, the first clear thought coming to her mind in what felt like ages while something close to admiration stirred in her chest, her eyes wandering back to the arrows piercing his body. _How did he learn to fight such a pain?_

"Okay, mousie," Bishop stated, his voice strained. "Let's get started. What about those bandages?"

"Yes," Liliana replied, her voice calm. "I have them here."

"You would not happen to have a bunch of healing potions lying around as well, I guess?" She quietly shook her head, and he sighed. "Didn't think so. Booze?"

She shook her head again, still feeling strangely detached from her own body, and so she did not even flinch under the weight of his piercing stare. "I don't drink, and Jasper is safekeeping the key to our wine cellar."

Bishop rubbed his forehead with an expression on his face that made him look as if he tried hard to repress another groan. "Oh, this will be a blast," he murmured, making a face as he reached for a small pouch stripped to his belt to pull out a small bottle. The liquid inside had a muddy brown colour, and green sparks glowed with every move when Bishop slowly bent down to place it on the marble floor, grimacing at the pain.

"What is that?" She asked still in that voice that was not entirely her own, mild curiosity thawing the numbness inside.

"It's all I've got." Judging from his frown, he was not overly pleased with that. "Not much, but it'll do for the worst once we've patched me up." His gaze returned to her, piercing as ever.

"No booze, you said? What about perfume? You have that, right?"

She nodded.

"Guess that'll have to do then," he muttered, not sounding happy at all. His voice got sharp again as he continued. "All right, mousie, let's do this. First, fetch some bandages or sheets and the perfume, and then we can get to work." He shifted carefully, trying to find a more comfortable position.

She watched him for a moment, sitting there on the rim of her bathtub, sweaty and bloody with wounds all over his body, and felt a strange feeling well up inside her, part admiration, part curiosity and something that could best be described as some kind of affection.

How many men did she know who could not only suffer these injuries but could also keep their wits about them when it happened, guiding them both safely through the aftermath of the nightmare they had just witnessed?

"You are the most curious man I have ever met," she stated almost fondly, only mildly aware of the small affectionate smile that suddenly played around her lips.

Her words caught him off-guard, she could tell by the subtle way his eyebrows rose in surprise, and the haze around her mind thawed a little when she saw the ghost of an answering smile play around his lips.

"Didn't meet many, then, did you?", he said, but then he winced, and the smile disappeared from his face. "Look, I'm glad you think me entertaining, but I need to get these out of me, so could we get to it?"

Her smile only widened at the familiar gruff reply, his face now all grim and back-to-business, and although she was certain that somewhere deep down he had to know that she would not simply leave him here to suffer on his own, she answered him nonetheless.

"Of course."

It was strange, Liliana mused a little while later as she was kneeling in front of her wardrobe, trying to retrieve the wooden box from beneath what seemed to be a dozen old dresses. The cloudy haze around her mind was only slowly beginning to disperse, but still the memories of what had happened tonight were constantly lurking along the edges of her consciousness, the eerie quiet of the house reminding her forcefully of all the blood and betrayal that was waiting for her just one hall away.

After all the things she had witnessed, she probably should be cowering in a corner of her room, sobbing uncontrolably because of the horrors she had been forced to face.

But strangely enough, Bishop's presence seemed like an anchor, his constant taunts and the need to take care of his wounds grounding her in reality despite all the terrible things that she had witnessed this night, and she was truly thankful for that.

When Liliana finally returned to the bathroom, carrying her flask of perfume in one hand while balancing the box and some towels in the other, she saw that Bishop had already begun to open the clasps of his leather armour, the linen shirt underneath damp with sweat and stained with blood.

He spat out a word that probably would have made her mother swoon and looked up when she entered the room, his face drawn with pain. "Good, you're back," he said through clenched teeth. "I can't get this damned thing off with that cursed arrow in the way. It needs to go first." He nodded at his dagger, which he had placed on the rim of the tub. "Take it. Grab the shaft right here, and then cut the arrow in half. And mousie?" She paused to look at him. "Try not to move it too much, will you?"

She nodded, placing both the bottle and the box with the towels on the floor at his feet before she kneeled down before him, one hand reaching mechanically for the dagger while the other did not hesitate to reach for the arrow right at the spot that he was indicating, but her hand had obviously gripped it a little too tightly.

"_Bloody hells!_" Bishop hissed as soon as her hand closed around the shaft, drawing a sharp breath as the wood was twisted in her grasp, and she hastened to let go.

"Sorry!"

She took the arrow more gently this time and began to cut it with his dagger, taking painstaking care not to twist it too much in the process. Bishop did not say another word, but she could see his hands clawing around the rim of the tub, his knuckles standing out white against his tanned skin, and felt her heart call out for him again.

Finally her task was done and she let go of the arrow, now holding almost two thirds of its length in her hand.

Bishop drew a shaking breath, and his hands slowly released their death grip on the tub as she put down the dagger. "Gods," he said, weakly. "And this was just the beginning."

He slowly and carefully got up from the rim. "Can you help me get this off now? I can't reach those buckles. If I twist, the arrow moves. Which is no fun, believe me."

Very slowly they removed first the armour from his body and then the shirt he wore underneath, letting both things fall into the tub behind them, and Liliana inhaled sharply when she saw the fresh burns and cuts on his back and chest.

"What did they do to you?" she gasped, her voice losing a lot of its quiet quality, sounding rather stricken all of a sudden.

Bishop made a strangled noise, somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "Gee, mommy, somehow the other kids just did not want to play nice."

She frowned at his ill attempt at flippancy, but Bishop did not seem to notice because he was busy looking down his chest and making a face while touching a large bruise on his side. He winced as his fingers wandered slowly over his skin.

"Feel them," he said all of a sudden, and for a moment, she was certain that she had heard him wrong.

"Pardon?"

"My ribs, mousie," he stated, with a hint of impatience in his voice. "I got hit by an impressively large mace. I'm fairly certain at least one rib is broken. So you need to touch them, see if I'm right. Now would be good."

Her eyes widened at the commanding tone of his voice, but she complied, her hand trembling ever so slightly when she let her fingers glide over the ugly bruise now covering his ribs, his skin feeling surprisingly cool to her touch, almost clammy.

She was leaning close to him now, close enough to see the faint lines of his scars, hidden under blotches of blood, and to smell his scent, that musky note of sweat much more prominent than before, and Liliana was startled that even after all the things that had happened to her today, she still could not help but to blush as soon as she felt his muscles move under her fingers, silently cursing the wicked ways of fate that had allowed them to end up here, in her bathroom, both half-naked and with her hand gliding slowly over his skin.

"And?" Bishop gritted out, obviously too focused on his injuries to notice the colour that was rising treacherously in her cheeks. "Something sticking out, some cracks?"

"No," she replied after a while, trying to keep her mind focused on her task, her hand carefully probing and testing. "It all feels smooth. I cannot feel anything strange."

"Good," he said, letting out a deep breath when he set down again on the rim of the tub. "A clean fracture. Just bandage it real tight after you've pulled the arrow out."

She blinked.

"After I did what?"

Bishop looked up, his eyebrows raised. "The arrows, princess. Think they'll fall out by themselves? This one" - he indicated at the one in his side - "did not go in too deep thanks to the armour. You can just pull it out."

"That one," he pointed at the one in his leg, "went in deep. You need to cut it out, then clean the wound with that." He nodded at the flask of her perfume. "Then you bandage it as well, give me my potion, and we're done. Got it?"

_What?_

_Take his dagger, cut it out?_

She knew that he had asked her to help him, and that she of course had been willing to provide said help, but up to now she had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had not fully realised what that truly meant.

_But… I've never done that before. What am I supposed to do?_

She stared, first at him, then at his wounds, her eyes wide and her mouth opening and closing without a word leaving her lips, her confusion gradually bordering on panic, the haze clouding her mind feeling thinner and thinner by the minute. Bishop watched her intently, obviously gauging her reaction, then took her chin with a surprisingly gentle motion, lifting her face so she had to look him squarely in the eyes.

"Mousie," he said, his voice calm, almost soothing, anchoring her. "I could do it myself, but it would hurt like hell. I need you to do this, you hear? The arrows have to go first, otherwise they'll get stuck when I take the potion. Just do as I tell you, and it will be alright. I know you can do it."

For a moment, she kept staring at him, taking in his words, her eyes wide and her breath catching in her throat. Then she forcefully rubbed her face and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

_You are not weak, remember? He is counting on you, he needs your help. You can do this. You are not useless. You can be strong!_

"Okay," she replied, her voice trembling, but her gaze was firm as she met his. "I will do it."

Bishop smiled, even if his face still looked pale and drawn. "Good girl."

He took her hands and closed them loosely around the shaft sticking out from his side, right above to the wound.

Drawing a deep breath, his eyes closed for a second before he looked at her again, his mouth set to a grim line.

"Alright, mousie. Let's do this. You're grabbing the arrow right here now," he lightly touched the shaft of the arrow in his side, "so pull it out as fast as you can. Straight backwards, don't angle it, or you will end up hurting me more. Cleanse the wound, bandage it, and you're half done. Ready?"

She nodded, her hands shaking ever so slightly while she tried to keep her breath calm and even, her nerves now taut like a bow string.

"Good. On the count of three, you'll pull with all your strength, you hear? One…"

She pulled, too nervous to pay any real attention to his counts, and after a moment of resistance, the arrow came out sharply amidst another pour of blood. Bishop gasped in surprise and then growled in pain, the muscles in his jaw standing out in sharp relief as he gritted his teeth hard enough to shatter to keep himself from screaming.

"_Hells,_" he hissed after a long moment of silence, his face even paler than before and his hands once more clawing around the rim of her tub, new beads of sweat slowly trickling down his face, his breathing heavy.

"I'm sorry," Liliana stammered meekly, the arrow clattering onto the ground as she quickly reached for a towel to press it onto the wound, her cheeks flaming. Bishop shot her a very dark look but said nothing, and she hurriedly reached for her flask with the perfume, its sweet flowery scent mingling with the smell of sweat and blood as she pulled the cork with her teeth.

She lifted the towel to pour the perfume over the wound, taking painstaking care not to waste too much of the precious alcohol. Bishop inhaled sharply as soon as the liquid entered his wound, and Liliana hastened to finish her work, still feeling slightly guilty for pulling the arrow out too early.

When she was done, she cleaned his side and breeches as much as possible with the dirty towel and then quickly reached for a new one, folding it to a small bundle that Bishop pressed close onto the wound when she began the dressing, his teeth still clenched against the pain.

It took her a while to finish the bandages because she had to go all the way around his waist to fasten them properly, and that his rib was broken and needed to be handled with care did not help, either.

Liliana cast him hooded glances out of the corner of her eye from time to time, to make sure that she was not hurting him by fastening the strips too tightly, but Bishop did not say a word, his eyes staying firmly closed during her work, and her heart ached when she looked into his pale face, his skin seeming almost waxen in the dim light, the beads of sweat now dripping from his chin onto his chest to mingle with his blood.

She finally fastened the last knot and got up, putting the flask at a safe distance so that she would not topple it over by accident and then filled some water from the jar into her water bowl to wash her hands, the feeling of the cool liquid on her skin strangely soothing.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, and picking up another towel from the ground, she held one tip into the jar until it was soaking wet and then knelt down in front of Bishop again, the wound in her side giving a small pang as she did, slowly beginning to wipe the sweat from his forehead and chest.

His eyes had been closed up to now but shot open the moment the wet cloth touched his skin, and their eyes met, their faces only inches apart. Even in the gloomy half-dark, his gaze had lost nothing of its intensity, and Liliana felt more than a little uncomfortable under his scrutinizing stare, the fact that she was kneeling in front of him wearing nothing but a rather revealing corset and her pantaloons doing nothing to ease her mind.

But Bishop said nothing, just watched her with a slight frown on his face, and so she simply continued what she was doing, the white cloth soon turning red.

"You were right, you know?" she said quietly after a while, not quite able to meet his eyes but desperately wishing to break the silence that seemed to tighten around them like a noose. "It was my brother who was behind it all, right from the start - and do you know why?"

In her mind, she could see Damian standing in his study, looking at her with all that unmasked contempt in his eyes, and his harsh words - _honestly, Liliana, what did you ever do that has been of any use to this family? _- and felt tears well up in her eyes, her voice throaty all of a sudden.

"Because I never learned to do anything with my life," she sniffed, hastily rubbing her eyes on her forearm to keep her tears from flowing freely. "Because I'm useless."

Bishop's frown deepened, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Bullshit!" He stated firmly, and Liliana could not help but to laugh at his words, a bitter sound that did nothing to ease the pain in her heart.

"But you said so yourself, remember?" She reminded him, her voice shaking. "Good for nothing but decoration?"

Something flitted over Bishop's face, a hint of uneasiness as he averted his gaze.

"Yeah, well, I've been known to be wrong from time to time," he said, his voice carefully bland, but Liliana thought she could sense a trace of the emotion that he was obviously trying to hide. Regret? But why would that be? "Guess I was wrong about you."

He looked at her again, the frown still in place. "You stood up to me tonight, and you stood up to that bastard of a brother of yours. That took guts. And you dealt with that assassin, saving both our hides. If not for you, we would be fish fodder right now. I would not call that useless. Would you?"

Liliana stared up into his eyes, her lips quivering, and for a moment, she was truly at a loss for what to say, feeling strangely torn inside. Torn because of the sinking feeling that settled in her stomach the moment he mentioned the assassin, forcing her to use all her power of will to push back the horrible memories that threatened to rise - but even more so because of his words. She had expected many things from him – that he would agree with Damian, perhaps, or that he would not give a damn and simply tell her to shut her mouth and quit the whining… but to hear him say that he had been wrong about her, that he thought better of her now?

Her heart ached even more painfully at that thought, and before she even realised what she was doing, Liliana let go of the cloth in her hand and closed her arms firmly around him, her face now pressed tightly against his chest while the top of her head came up right under his chin. Bishop tensed when she closed her arms around him, his body now taut as a spring, but Liliana did not care, driven by the almost desperate need to feel his body close to hers, if only for a moment, to let his touch ease her hurting, to feel his steadying influence once again.

She closed her eyes to listen to the beat of his heart, its rhythm surprisingly fast and yet so very soothing, the soft hair on his chest tickling her nose. She could smell him, the harsh odour of sweat and blood mingling strongly with his individual scent of sun and leaves. It should have been unpleasant in its intensity, considering all the exertions that he had been through, but strangely enough… it was not.

It just smelled… _male_, and powerful, and it made her feel… safe?

Bishop finally moved, his body relaxing, and for a moment, Liliana truly feared that he would push her away, shattering her illusion of peace. But he simply lifted a hand to hesitatingly touch her hair, and the ache in her heart became somewhat sweeter when she felt his fingers softly pushing a stray lock behind her ear before gliding slowly through the silky strands, his touch light, but soothing, so soothing.

There it was again, that inexplicable feeling that nothing could harm her for as long as she was with him, and she wanted nothing more but to stay like this forever, to bury herself deep within him, diving into the dark waters of his soul so that he could keep her hidden from the world outside, taking away all her hurt and her pain…

She closed her arms more firmly around him, and Bishop gave a pained gasp, his whole body tensing as she accidentally applied pressure to his broken rib.

_Hurting him._

It felt like a bucket of ice water had suddenly been emptied over her head, and Liliana hurriedly let go of him, her pulse now drumming loudly in her ears while a wave of embarrassment and guilt welled through her, threatening to drown her.

"I need a light," she murmured thickly, quietly cursing the treacherous quiver in her voice right along with that absolutely harebrained attempt at diversion, and so she hastened to get up and out of his reach, doggedly avoiding his gaze while her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. "I cannot see what I am doing."

She almost fled into the adjacent room and then spent some long moments leaning with her forehead against one of the posts of her bed, her eyes tightly shut, trying to calm her racing heart.

The wound in her side was throbbing constantly now, a dull pain that left her skin itching uncomfortably, but she ignored it as best as she could, her mind occupied with more desperate matters.

_Well done, Liliana, really brilliant_ _- he's probably having the laugh of his life right now, _scolded the soft voice in her head, its words full of venom. _Just look at you - a few words of comfort, and the spoiled merchant's daughter is immediately throwing herself into the arms of her hired killer, probably ruining all attempts at patching up said killer's wounds with a single, ill-attempted hug... because she deludes herself that he could give her strength? That he could make things right again somehow?_

Her heart felt as if it was squeezed in a vice-like grip at that thought, and Liliana drew a shaking breath, her hands unconsciously gripping the wooden post in front of her more tightly.

_This is so embarrassing._

The worst part was not even that she had hugged him. After all the maddening things that had happened around her in such a short span of time - who would have blamed her for turning to the only person that had been with her for at least some kind of comfort?

The worst thing was that she knew better.

That she had not thrown herself into his arms because she had desperately needed someone to console her, but that she had wanted _him_ to hold her. Had wanted him to showher that she was worth something in his eyes, that he cared at least enough to try and make things better.

She remembered the feel of his hands in her hair, his caress giving her that strange peace of mind that only _his_ touch seemed to bring… and there were no words for the shame she felt as she was forced to face this bitter truth, that a part of her desperately wanted him around to make her feel this special kind of strength, like she could actually deal with anything the fates threw at her.

How could she ever look at her face in the mirror and _not _die of self-loathing?

How could she ever look at her own reflection and still try to convince herself that she was nothing but a girl, healthy and sane, when she could feel this way about a man like Bishop, a killer without conscience? Who had almost become _her_ killer?

_I know_, she thought, her eyes closing in a notion that tasted treacherously like despair. _Gods, how I know!_

But it did not help at all to quench the strange yearning in her heart, and that was probably the greatest part of her shame - that she knew that this was wrong, that this pull that she was feeling towards him was like a fever, leaving her mind poisoned and weakened... but she could still feel the beat of his heart under her cheek, smell his scent on her skin, and felt like the lowliest creature on Faerun when she caught a part of herself wishing that he would hold her again.

_Get a grip, Liliana, _remarked the soft voice in her mind,_ beating yourself up about it right now will help no one, and he's probably already wondering what is keeping you so long. One arrow is out, and when the last one is gone, he will go, too, and all this will be over._

_You can do it!_

Right.

With her legs feeling strangely wobbly and her wound still itching, she slowly made her way over to her bedside table to fumble with the fastenings of a small oil lamp, her fingers trembling a little when she ignited a match to light the lantern.

When the small flame was burning lively, she drew a deep breath, lifted the lamp and finally went back into the bathroom, taking painstaking care to avoid Bishop's eyes as she stepped across the threshold, desperately hoping that her cheeks had taken on a normal colour again while a part of her was convinced that he was able to hear her heart beating even from over there where he was sitting, so loud did it drum in her own ears.

"What do I have to do now?" she asked quietly, her voice sounding surprisingly steady as she put the lantern down onto the floor at his feet, the flame now tinting the small room in a warm, orange glow.

„First, you need to take the dagger and cut off the leg."

That comment made her look up at him nonetheless, casting Bishop a baffled gaze, the treacherous heat creeping back into her cheeks as soon as she met his eyes. His face was blank showing no emotion, but when he realised her confusion his eyebrows went up and a hint of amusement seeped into his voice.

„From my breeches, princess?" he asked quizzically. "Or do you think you can treat the wound with the leather still covering it?"

He was right, of course, and so she shook her head, her cheeks burning even more strongly as she realised her mistake, quickly averting her gaze because she could not to meet his eyes any longer.

„No? Thought so."

He moved, and with a small grunt lifted his dagger from the spot at his feet.

„I'd get out of them myself, but as long as the arrow's still stuck in my leg, that's out of the question, so…" he held out the knife to her again and Liliana took it, cursing herself quietly for the way her heartbeat sped up when her fingers briefly brushed against his on the handle. „Here you go."

The blade proved to be surprisingly sharp for such a small weapon, cutting easily through the thick hide, probably due to a spell. Soon the leather covering his left leg was gone, and she could see the arrow sticking out of his flesh, blood trickling slowly from the wound and staining his thigh.

„Good," Bishop said, his voice sounding tight again. „Now take the lantern and hold the blade into the flame from both sides, and then we can get down to business."

Liliana took her time with heating the blade, a part of her feeling slightly guilty that she was stalling in a moment like this, but she desperately needed a bit of distance, feeling more than a little uncomfortable that she had to kneel so close to him again… and had to get even closer.

_And now only one of his legs is bare_, mused the voice in her head. _Can you imagine what it would have felt like if he had gotten out of his breeches all on his own?_

For a moment, she imagined it – she, kneeling between his legs to patch up his wound while he was sitting on the rim of the tub, stark naked… that thought immediately stirred the memory of the last time that she had seen him like that, of how the firelight had flickered over his tanned skin, and she closed her eyes hastily as if to chase the images away, her cheeks and ears now probably glowing in the half-dark considering how much they burned with treacherous heat.

_Just this one wound, remember?, _she thought almost desperately_. Keep avoiding his gaze and don't get too close, and it will all be over soon._

„That's enough," Bishop's voice rumbled into her ear from behind her, and she flinched as her eyes shot open again. „You'll do two cuts, mousie – one from above, and one from below. The arrow sits too deep to come out right away, so we'll have to widen the wound for you to pull it out. Place the tip of the dagger here, almost a finger's length from the arrow, and then cut down into the flesh towards it until you can feel the blade scraping over the tip. Understood?"

She swallowed, the sudden lump forming in her throat making it surprisingly hard to breathe.

„Yes," she said, her voice trembling, but she placed the tip of the dagger right where he had shown her, a part of her feeling strangely relieved that her hand was shaking only ever so slightly.

„Good," Bishop said, closing his hands firmly around the rim of the tub once more. „This wound is the last one, and it might bleed a little. So after the cutting, we'll do it like this – pulling out the arrow, washing the wound with perfume, letting me drink the potion and then bandaging everything tightly, just like the first one. Ready?"

She swallowed.

„Ready."

„Okay, mousie," he breathed, closing his eyes while his body was now taut as a spring. „Do your worst."

A part of her was surprised how easily the blade was sinking into his flesh when she applied only the least bit of pressure, but Bishop growled full of pain, his moan muffled by the sound of his own breath because he was now inhaling and exhaling forcefully through his clenched teeth.

His blood was pouring freely from his wound now, its smell making her stomach churn, and so she hastened to add the second cut, a part of her wishing that she could blend out his groans, every muscle in his body now tensing so forcefully that the fibres in his neck stood out, and the bathtub gave a strange, creaking sound because he was gripping the metal of the rim so tightly.

More blood was pouring from the enlarged wound, running over his skin and dripping onto the floor, its sweet sickening smell filling the bathroom. The memories it carried made her stomach churn even more forcefully all of a sudden, and so Liliana quickly let go of his dagger and closed her hands around the shaft of the arrow close to the wound, so that she could pull it out quickly in case that she would have to throw up.

She pulled with all her strength, but the arrow did not move. Bishop hissed in pain, and she cast him a quick glance, her anxiety increasing a thousandfold when she saw how pale he looked all of a sudden, his whole body again covered in sweat. She gripped the arrow even more tightly, pulling again with all the strength she could muster, and felt the arrow slowly responding to her pull, making its way up through his leg painfully slowly.

More blood poured from the wound in a flush, and bile rose in her throat when she felt it run over her fingers, so warm and sticky, and before Liliana could even try to control her reaction, the memories hit her with a vengeance, changing her anxiety into a mindless panic in a heartbeat.

…_the knife coming up in a clumsy arc as she aims for the woman's broad back, afraid that she would otherwise miss her target…_

…_not feeling the slightest bit of resistance as the blade buries itself deep into the woman's torso…_

…_something hot and wet trickling over her fingers, her eyes widening at the red liquid that is now marring both her hands and the knife..._

…_kneeling on the jetty, the dry wood pressing into her knees, desperately trying to wash the blood from her hands… but no matter how hard she scrubs, the last tinge of red simply does not go away…_

With a small squeal, Liliana let go of the arrow, frantically trying to rub the blood from her hands again and again but it was only smeared across her palms and fingers, still staining her skin in a bright crimson red.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, squeezing hard, the fingers digging into her skin sharply and painfully. It shook her once, roughly enough to make her head wobble and to bite her tongue in the process, and Liliana gasped when the sharp pain in her shoulder and mouth pulled her right back into the present, staring up at Bishop with wide eyes.

He was white as a sheet now, his chest heaving heavily with his ragged breathing, and his eyes were burning with pain.

"Out," he grunted, his voice rough from all the suppressed screams, and he was clenching his teeth so tightly that she could barely understand the word. "Pull it out!"

For the length of a heartbeat, she could only stare up at him in confusion, and Liliana was shocked when she suddenly realised that the arrow was still half-buried inside his leg while her cuts were bleeding profoundly, an agony she could not even imagine.

She quickly reached for the wooden shaft, and without even thinking twice about it pulled with all her strength, the arrow finally leaving the wound with a ripping sound that made her stomach churn even more forcefully. The bitter taste of bile was now filling her mouth and burning her tongue but Liliana fought her nausea, the almost desperate urge to make up for her blunder giving her the strength to keep her fright at bay.

She quickly reached for the perfume to pour it over the wound and this time, Bishop _did_ scream – the first time since they had begun this whole ordeal, his anguished cry quickly turning into a sob and it broke her heart to hear it, especially when she knew that it was partly her fault.

Bishop suddenly fell forward, his shoulders hunching down without warning, and Liliana barely managed to catch him in her arms before he could fall off the tub and onto the floor, hurting himself even more.

"_Shh_, it's okay, we're almost done!" she cooed, her arms closed firmly around him, trying to keep him in place… but he was a heavy weight in her arms, slowly pushing them both backwards across the floor, and if she could not coax him to help her, and fast, he would simply fall on top of her.

"Bishop, can you hear me?"

He did not respond, and an icy needle of fear pierced her heart. What if he was out cold and she was now making it worse because she could not hand him his potion and stop his wound from bleeding?

Her heart skipped a beat when she took in the quickly growing pool of blood at his feet, and with a show of strength that left her arms moaning in protest and the wound in her side throbbing with pain, she managed to push him back into an almost upright position, his head now resting heavily on her shoulder.

"Bishop?" The words came out quick, breathless, her growing fear edged clearly into her voice. "You are too heavy for me. I need you to pull yourself back onto the tub, do you hear?"

For another long moment, he did not respond, his head still buried in the crook of her neck while her panic only seemed to grow when she felt his weight slowly pushing her back again. But then Bishop tensed, and with a sound somewhere between a hiss and a moan, he pulled himself back into an upright position, his arms now shaking with exertion.

"Good, that's a good boy." She was babbling without even realising it, the relief that she was feeling when he was opening his eyes to look at her obscuring her common sense. Her shaking fingers fumbled for the small potion bottle on the ground, and it took her several attempts to pull its cork out of the bottle's neck. A spicy scent filled the air, only intensifying the smell of blood and sweat, and she almost gagged.

"You're doing wonderful," she went on, her voice rough as she lifted one hand to gently caress his cheek. "Just a little longer, you hear? Drink this, and then I'll patch you up, and we can lay you down somewhere where you can rest."

Bishop snorted, and although his voice was barely more than a croak, she could still hear it dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, mom."

Torn between feeling embarrassed and feeling relieved that he was still able to jest, Liliana quickly pressed the bottle against his lips and watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed the sparkling liquid not without difficulty. She had never seen a healing potion work its magic before, but this one seemed to be a quite potent one. Stunned, she watched in something close to wonder as the small cuts and burns on his skin miraculously closed and vanished right before her eyes, the blood flow pouring from his leg slowing down immediately.

"Breathe, princess."

She looked up as she heard Bishop croak the words, and her cheeks started to burn as she realised with a certain horror that she had sat here motionlessly while the moments ticked by, gaping at the potion's magical healing abilities like a fool while the wound in his leg was still bleeding openly.

"I do," she murmured defiantly as she quickly turned away to press one of the towels firmly onto his wounds, silently cursing the treacherous heat that was once again making her ears prickle uncomfortably when she sat down to bandage the cut really tight to stop the bleeding entirely. "Idiot."

Maybe Bishop was smiling but she could not say for certain because she did her best to keep her eyes solely focused on his thigh, bandaging the wound. When she was done, he let out a long, shuddering breath, and Liliana threw him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, relieved to see that at least a bit of colour had returned to his face.

"Bloody..." Bishop started hoarsely but broke off, coughing, his hand clutching his side as the coughing fit had to hurt the still gaping wound there. "..._hells,_" he finally finished weakly, his breathing quick and shallow. He coughed again, once, and hissed in pain.

"Water?" he asked through clenched teeth, and Liliana hurried to fetch the jar, her relief once again replaced by concern when she heard him hiss once more. Bishop took the earthen jug and then drank greedily, the muscles in his throat working forcefully as he did so.

When he was done, he put down the jar and sighed again, sounding relieved this time.

"Better."

Although his voice had gained in volume, his face looked still uncharacteristically pale and drawn, and Liliana frowned when she took in the dark circles under his eyes and the beads of sweat on his temple and cheeks.

"How are you feeling?"

Bishop shot her a wry glance. "Just swell. What do _you _think?"

"You look awful."

This time, he did laugh, a short chuckle that sent a warm tingle down her spine.

"Gee, thanks, mousie!"

His eyes wandered down his chest and towards his leg, lingering on the white linen, the fingers of his free hand carefully sliding over the fabric, testing it. He nodded as if satisfied with what he found and looked up, his gaze returning to her, and Liliana felt another tingling sensation run through her body when she saw the lopsided smile on his face.

"Not bad," he said, holding out the jar, a slightly teasing note in his voice. "Not bad at all. You did good, princess."

She reached out to take the jug from him, not knowing what to make of the emotional turmoil that was now swirling inside her chest when she looked into his smiling face. She did not feel like she deserved his praise, considering how she had lost it for a moment, but it felt strangely good to hear him say it nonetheless. The wound in her side gave another sharp pang at her movement, and Liliana flinched, her breath hissing sharply through her teeth. Bishop seemed to have noticed her sudden discomfort because she could see him frown all of a sudden, and his gaze wandered to the bloody gash in her corset.

"Let me see that."

Considering what he had been through and how quickly he seemed to recover now that the worst was over and especially after telling her that she had done good she was determined not to let him think bad of her again, and so Liliana vehemently shook her head but could not quite meet his eyes when she replied.

"It's just a scratch, it's nothing."

He lifted his hand to reach for her side and she reflexively shied away from the touch, the water in the jar sloshing loudly while the throbbing of the wound got even worse with her sudden movement.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see that. Now let me have a look."

Letting him get close to her… letting him touch her? While her heart was still beating faster because he had smiled at her like that?

_No! He is evil, a killer. I cannot allow this to happen!_

The thought made her heart jump painfully with something that tasted uncomfortably of fright, and so Liliana hastened to shake her head, retreating even a bit further across the room.

"No, that's… that's not necessary."

His expression darkened when he saw her reaction and so she was feverishly taxing her brain for a logical sounding reason why she had to refuse his help… for she could not tell him that she did not trust herself anymore when he got too close to her, now could she?

"You're not looking well, Bishop," she tried, doing her best to sound reasonable. "You need to rest…"

"Did you hear me asking for permission, princess?" he asked, sharply. "I _will_ take a look, so get over here. If you make me get up to come after you right now, you will regret it, believe me."

She had not expected him to react with such vehemence, and that her mind was telling her that he was actually quite right and that it probably was for the best to have someone examine her wound did not help at all. So in the end, she resigned to her fate and got slowly onto her feet to stand in front of him, so that he could take a look at the wound while still sitting on the tub.

She could feel his hands wander over her hip and under the cloth, expertly probing the wound, and Liliana pressed her lips firmly together against the stinging pain when he began her treatment.

He had had two arrows removed from his body without making hardly a sound, after all - so how could she start throwing a scene for a small cut like this?

"What does it do?" he asked flatly. "Itching? Throbbing?"

It took all her force of will not to flinch under his fingers.

"Throbbing, yes."

His frown only deepened. "Does it feel cold? Numb?"

Liliana shook her head, not knowing what to make of the sudden tension she could hear in his words.

"No. It's just… throbbing."

He nodded, and seemed to relax a bit. "I'll open the dress."

_What?_

She was gritting her teeth to keep up her resolve but could not help to shy away from him when she felt his hands actually tucking on the lacing of her bodice.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and almost flinched when she heard that hint of panic edged clearly into her voice. It was not lost on Bishop, too, for she could see him frown ever so slightly as she spoke.

"Don't you turn prissy on me now, princess," he said acidly. "That wound needs to be taken care of. And remember, there's _nothing _I have not seen before, mostly because of that neat little trick you played me. So, are you getting over your lily-white self, or do you prefer to risk blood poisoning?"

It felt as if a fist had connected forcefully with her guts, driving the air out of her lungs.

His scathing reply made all blood drain from her face, leaving her staring at him with wide eyes and a strange feeling welled up inside her, a painful mixture of hurt, embarrassment and shame, making it hard to breathe as the memories of that last fateful night at the hut returned full force.

_What would dear Cedric have to say if he knew that his beloved Liliana invited a killer into her bed just to get him to do her dirty work for her?_

To have the truth behind Damian's words shoved into her face like this, and by _him_ of all people, made it even more painful, and Liliana was relieved that she was pressing her hands tightly against her chest because they were shaking very badly all of a sudden, and no matter how bad she felt already, she knew it would only get worse if she would let him see.

So for a long moment, they just stared at each other, Bishop's eyes boring hard into hers. Then Liliana mentally kicked herself, and her voice sounded strange even in her own ears when she slowly turned around once more, trying to steel herself for what was about to come.

"Very well."

xxx

It was torture.

Not so much because of the pain in her wound when he removed the remains of her dress from it with a forceful pull of his hand, or because of the agony that spread through her side when he began to wash the wound with perfume, making her bite her lips to keep herself from whimpering.

But the pain, she could handle. What was worse was the feeling of his hands, wandering over her bare back and her side, probing and testing, every touch of his calloused fingers sending a shiver down her spine as it instantaneously rekindled the memory of how his hands had wandered lovingly over her exposed body right before he had claimed her. His breath, gliding over her bare skin from time to time when he had to lean closer to get a better look at her wound made goose bumps rise all over her body while she was clutching the corset tightly to her chest, desperately wishing herself miles away because her mind simply could not block out the memory of his lips on her shoulder, her mouth, or of the fire in his kiss whenever he had held her in his arms...

_What frightens you the most, Liliana? The memories, his touch... or that you're not half as revolted as you should be, standing so close to him with his hands on your body?_

That thought sent even more dreadful shivers down her spine, and there were no words for her relief when Bishop finally stated gruffly that he was done and she could quickly step away from him, reaching for one of the last remaining towels to wrap it tightly around her chest, feeling a bit more relaxed when she was covered again down to her knees.

_I'm a bad girl. A bad girl. I _should_ be revolted by his mere presence, his touch. Merciful gods, what is _wrong_ with me?_

She turned and was surprised to find that Bishop had gotten up from the tub in the meantime, gritting his teeth as he tried to put some weight on his injured leg. It was easy to see that each move pained him, but considering how many wounds were still marring his body, Liliana could not help but to admire his strength of will.

He shot her a rather dark look, and Liliana felt a bit ashamed for hurrying away from him like that.

"Thank you," she therefore murmured, still not quite able to meet his eyes. Bishop's expression darkened even more, but he said nothing, slowly bending down to reach for his shirt and armour instead.

"If your highness were inclined to help me with these," he said acridly after he had put on his leathers, every movement slow and careful, pointing at the various stripes and buckles that held the armour in place, "I could be on my merry way and rid you of my presence. After you paid me what I'm due, of course."

It hurt to see him so distant, so bitter all of a sudden, and her conscience nudged her sharply, reminding her that this was most likely her fault, that he was probably angry because of her seemingly distant and touchy behaviour while that other part of her once again reprimanded her for letting him get to her, for getting soft once again. Torn on the inside, she still hurried to comply with his request, her sudden discomfort not making it any easier to meet his eyes.

"Of course."

Slowly, Liliana worked her way around the unfamiliar buckles and straps, taking painstaking care to fasten the various hooks and loops carefully so that she would not hurt him. Bishop stayed silent during her administrations, the dark expression on his face not lightening up in the slightest, and guilt stood out clearly amongst the chaos that was now her emotions, nudging her repeatedly with its sharp claws.

_If your highness were inclined to help me with these, I could be on my merry way and rid you of my presence._

Brutal murderer or no, he had saved her life tonight - she owed him that he did not feel affronted, to make sure he knew that she _was_ thankful for his support. But how could she explain her actions to him without making herself look like a complete fool?

"I'm sorry," she murmured in the end, simply not able to stand the uncomfortable silence between them any longer. Bishop's sharp gaze returned to her, the frown on his face only deepening at her words, and so she hurried to focus her attention onto the buckle she was currently working on.

"I am really sorry if I seemed ungrateful," she quietly went on, fighting her growing nervousness. She could still feel his dark gaze upon her, making a part of her wish desperately to simply become invisible but she kept talking, determined to at least try to smooth things over between them. "I do appreciate what you did tonight, and I am sorry that you got hurt."

The last buckle finally closed, she stepped back to look up into his face, nervously gauging his reaction. "Without you... if you had not helped, I would probably be dead by now."

She cast him a hesitant smile, not wishing for the first time that she could see through the mask that he was wearing so effortlessly to know what he was thinking.

"So... thank you. For everything."

He simply kept staring at her, the look in his unusual eyes more than a little disconcerting, and Liliana did not even notice how her fingers had begun to play nervously with one corner of her towel.

"I... I should better go and fetch your reward," she said quietly when Bishop kept his silence, but strangely enough, her feet did not want to obey, effectively rooting her to the spot, her gaze still fixed on his face.

His eyes shone like amber in the light of the lamp, their colour both alien and alluring at the same time, and for a moment, it seemed as if a crack appeared in the mask that he was wearing while they looked deep into each others eyes, and Liliana saw a peculiar expression flicker across his face while his body suddenly seemed to radiate tension.

He seemed to battle an impulse, she could tell. Something close to indecision appeared on his face, softening his expression, and he began to lean closer, inch by inch, his eyes never leaving her face. Her heart gave a forceful leap while she watched in fearful anticipation, her eyes wandering for a moment to the soft curve of his mouth, so near now, and the blood began to pound loudly in her ears while her feet were still rooted to the spot, spellbound by the light in his eyes...

A distant shout echoed through the mansion, followed by the voices of several men, arguing, and they both turned their heads in unison towards the bathroom door at the unexpected noise, Liliana's heart was giving another forceful leap when she understood the true meaning of the sound, the sudden diversion effectively breaking the tension that seemed to flash like lightning between them.

"The spell," she exclaimed when she hastily took a step back, her voice surprisingly breathless all of a sudden. "Damian said that the mage he had hired had used some kind of magic to keep everyone asleep while he... while he was playing his game. It must have worn off!"

Her blood was still pounding in her ears, but for completely different reasons this time.

_Gods_, what had gotten into her?

She had told herself to keep her distance because she could not trust herself in her current state of mind, that she would stay away from temptation. What had she been thinking, staring into his eyes like that, only inviting him to get closer?

_Don't think about it_, the soft voice murmured inside her mind, surprisingly soothing. _You're still hurt, confused. It means nothing._

_You need to focus, Liliana. Focus on the task at hand!_

Of course. What were they supposed to do now? All hell would break loose if they found Bishop in her chamber on a night like this – and how could she explain his presence in her room, at this time of day, without saying the truth?

"You cannot stay here. You have to leave!"

Quickly, she hurried past him and into the adjacent room, deliberately avoiding his gaze, only stopping for a short moment to slip into her nightgown before she made her way over towards her dressing table, opening the drawer that held all her jewellery. She took out her largest jewel case, a beautiful casket made of dark wood with intricate silver inlays, placed it onto the table, and hurriedly began to fill it up to its brim with various rings, necklaces, bracelets and brooches.

When she was done, she closed the lid and turned around, the box now firmly in hand, and saw that Bishop had followed her into her bedroom, watching her closely, and her heart gave an unexpected pang when she saw that all his masks were already back in place, the look that he gave her now as cold and guarded as ever.

_Focus, remember? You want this nightmare to be over, so get a grip!_

Even more shouts could be heard inside the mansion, distant still, but now the first female voices were echoing through the night, telling her clearly that whoever had awoken from the spell first was now quickly alerting the household.

_Hurry!_

Gripping the casket in her hands more tightly, Liliana watched Bishop coming towards her and she was startled when she suddenly realised that her room was now bathed in the first light of the sun, shining through the trees. When had that happened?

Every single one of Bishop's movements was slow and deliberate clearly to avoid more hurt, but she was certain that most other men would have been much more encumbered with the wounds that he had to endure and once again admiration welled up inside her, battling her sudden anxiety.

"Here," she said, holding out the box to him as soon as he stood before her, her throat feeling strangely dry all of a sudden. "Your jewels, just as I promised."

Bishop took the chest, casting her a quizzical glance before he opened the lid, his eyebrows shooting up when he took a look inside, seeming mildly impressed – which he should be, considering that he was staring at three generations of valuable family heirlooms. But considering what he had been through on her behalf, it seemed like a very small price to repay him.

"The box is made from expensive wood and silver, too, so you should get some additional two or three hundred gold for it as well... maybe even more, if you negotiate carefully."

She stopped when she realised that she was babbling again, not understanding why she was feeling so tense all of a sudden.

Bishop was silent for a moment, than snapped the lid of the box closed with a sharp sound.

"Well, then. Guess that's it, mousie," he finally stated, his voice cool and expressionless, and strangely enough his words only seemed to fuel her anxiety. For the length of a heartbeat, it seemed as if Bishop wanted to say something more, the words already on the tip of his tongue. But then he just shrugged, and his eyes revealed nothing when they met hers one more time, his face still looking very pale in the first light of the sun.

"Bye, princess."

And after a mock salute, he made his way over to her balcony, the casket firmly in one hand.

She watched him go, and it felt like iron straps were slowly constricting around her heart with every step he took, and out of an impulse, she followed him, waiting just outside her balcony door to watch how he made a pause to carefully scan the garden, obviously checking for any of the guards along the gravel paths.

Seemingly satisfied with the result, he carefully swung one leg over the balustrade only to stop in mid-motion, now sitting on the iron bars of the banister, and she saw him turn his head as if to throw one last glance into the room he had just left... and froze when he saw her standing there in the door, watching him. His eyes widened, and it felt as if her heart was squeezed cruelly in her chest when his gaze met hers across the distance, that inexplicable yearning rushing back to her in an instant, now accompanied by a diffuse longing that she did not fully understand.

_Please... don't go..._

He seemed to have seen something on her face, because the very same moment that unbidden thought came to her mind, she heard him inhale sharply, and slowly, the indifferent mask seemed to crumble from his face. Liliana's heart gave another sharp pang when she saw the expression he wore underneath, looking so torn, so haunted all of a sudden. Without taking his eyes from her, he carefully deposited the casket on the balustrade before slowly climbing back onto the balcony to walk up to her, his eyes still fixed on hers and the beat of her heart speeding up with every step he took until he came to a hold right in front of her.

Hesitatingly, his hand reached out and touched her hair, softly pushing a stray lock from her brow. Her heart made another forceful leap at that caress, and her mind started to scream at her that she had to move, that she had to get away, that this was a very bad idea, that she had vowed to herself to keep her distance... and yet she did not move, just looked up into his eyes, the longing in her heart making her feel as if she was about to burst.

Still as slowly, haltingly, he bent his head, bringing his mouth dangerously close to hers... and still she did not move, did nothing to shy away from his touch while her whole body started to tremble. His eyes grew darker when he noticed her reaction, and he bent his head even further to cross that last agonizing inch between them, his breath now quick and shallow until, after seemingly an eternity, their lips touched. His eyes fell close, and Liliana could feel him shudder as his mouth wandered softly over hers, his hand gliding to her neck, tangling in her hair, stroking gently, his touch sending an answering tremor through her body.

For a moment, her mind was still screaming at her to move away, that she was going to marry and could not let him touch her, that she would regret this... but then his scent rose into her nose, and all conscious thought fled her mind when she actually melted into his embrace, the emotional turmoil inside her finally finding an outlet.

His whole body tensed when he felt her sink against him, answering his kiss, and Bishop lifted his head to stare down at her with burning eyes, seemingly surprised by her reaction. She met his gaze, her body still trembling, and her heart called out to him when she saw the turmoil in his eyes, longing and doubt battling with other, more subtle feelings. Then she saw the familiar fire kindle in their depths, and with a strangled noise he wound his free arm around her waist, jerking her even closer against him before his lips claimed hers with a force hard enough to bruise, the stubble on his chin actually chafing her skin while he drank her breath greedily.

One hand was gripping her hair now, crushing her against his body, and Liliana offered no resistance against his touch even when the sharp buckles of his armour pricked her through the thin cloth of her nightgown, her arms winding themselves around his neck seemingly on their own account, making her snuggling even closer against him.

Bishop moaned at her touch, and the feel of his mouth, his scent, combined with that needy noise, made it feel like a bolt of fire was burning its way from her lips down her spine, setting every cell in its wake on fire. It was like a fever, burning her fear, burning her hurt, burning her doubts away to leave nothing behind but the thrill of their intimate touch, a simmering tension that was rapidly building between them, screaming to be released.

His fingers tightened around the hair in her neck, sharply pulling her head back so that he could even deepen the kiss, his passion stoking the fire within her even higher as his tongue roughly demanded entrance to tangle with hers, his other hand squeezing her behind none too gently, pressing her hips even harder against his own. It hurt a little, considering that she was wearing nothing but a thin cotton shirt and he was almost fully dressed in armour, but what did she care when that pain could actually make her feel so good? He was making her _burn_, and all the blood and horror of the outside world was nothing but a distant memory while she was lying in his arms, only wanting to get closer, to get so much closer to never let go again, and who would ever want to breathe if you could die such a sweet death instead, drowning in his kiss?

It was Bishop who, with a desperate groan, finally broke their kiss to bury his face in her hair, still pressing her closely against his body with one hand while the other firmly gripped her neck. His breath came in gasps, and Liliana was surprised when she realised that her whole body was practically shaking now, a part of her being glad that he was still holding her so tightly in his arms for she could not have guaranteed that her legs would have supported her all on their own.

For a long moment he just held her like that, the speed of her breath and heart slowly returning to normal. Then she felt him lift his head with a trembling sigh to bring his mouth close to her ear, and the sudden feel of his breath on her skin made goose bumps rise all over her body, its feathery touch tickling her.

"Farewell, mousie," Bishop murmured, and his voice was so rough that it took her a moment to understand his words. "Don't let the cats eat you."

_What... farewell?_

_But... no. No!_

Panic welled up inside her, hot and strong. Her thoughts were chasing each other like a bunch of panicked mice in her mind, her emotions now a complete mess, making it even harder to think, but he could not leave, not now, not after kissing her like that and when there were still so many things left unspoken between them!

"Bishop..." she pleaded, her voice very husky, desperately wanting him to understand, but he silenced her with yet another bruising kiss, his stubble once again chafing her skin. Then he abruptly let go of her, and without another glance turned and walked back quickly towards the banister. He grabbed the casket, and the next moment he had swung himself onto the tree and then climbed down, towards the ground.

Liliana watched him leave with wide eyes, her shock at the sudden turn of events rooting her to the spot, still not able to wrap her mind around what was actually happening to her. Mere moments ago, she had felt nothing but bliss while lying in his arms, all her fears and worries miraculously forgotten... only to feel now like her heart had been ripped from her chest, her rising panic making it hard to breathe.

_Move, Liliana_, hissed the soft voice in her head, startling her out of her shell-shocked state, _he'll be gone if you do nothing to hold him back!_

That thought made her hurry over towards the balustrade to call out to him, and Liliana was shocked when she suddenly realised that there was actually no sign of him, no matter how desperately her eyes roamed across the garden and down towards the lake. He seemed to have vanished like mist in the morning air, as if he had never existed, and her heart ached so terribly at that thought that she gasped, her hands clawing forcefully around the iron bars of the banister to keep her on her feet.

_Gone._

"Miss Liliana!"

One of the maidens was running towards her, still wearing her nightgown and bonnet, her long, dark hair a mess. Tears were running down her cheeks, and she seemed on the verge of hysteria.

"Oh, Miss Liliana... it's so _horrible_..."

Gods. She had almost forgotten about the other drama that was waiting for her, right inside these walls.

For a moment, she closed her eyes trying to battle the hurt, her hands gripping the iron bars of the banister so tightly that her nails clawed into her palms, leaving angry welts on her skin. She needed to stay focused right now, needed her wits about her to get through what was now bound to come.

_Later_, she thought almost desperately, drawing a shaking breath. _I'll deal with this later. Not now._

"I'm coming, Danae," she finally said after a last long glance into the garden, her voice so hoarse that she almost flinched at the unexpected sound. "I'm coming."

Slowly, dreamlike, she made her way back inside the house, the crying maiden following closely on her heels.

She should be glad, the analytical part of her mind supplied helpfully.

Her villain was slain, her kidnapper was gone, the danger had passed... and here she was, still alive and finally able to move on!

But if Damian was dead, if this nightmare was truly over... why did it have to feel like her world had just ended?


	16. New Horizons

_Another joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. __We still don't own Bishop, but we still wish we did._

_I sincerely apologize to everyone who left a review to the last chapter and did not receive any reply. Working full time and having a small child wreaks havoc on my schedule._

_The comments all made me very happy and I truly feel bad about not having replied. I'll try to do better this time around, promise._

* * *

There had never been a more beautiful day.

The sun shone brightly from a clear blue sky, the birds sang merrily in the trees, and all the colours around them were lush and vibrant with life. Now that spring was finally turning into summer, the air was warm, a mild wind tugging gently at Liliana's hair and her dark, somber dress while she wondered absentmindedly why it could not have been raining.

The voice of the priest carried far over the green hills and marble tombstones of the City of the Dead, the polished stones gleaming brightly in the sun. A large crowd had gathered at the entrance of her family's crypt, the festively decorated tomb the only spot of colour in an ocean of black and brown, to say farewell to her brother, the man who would now go into the annals of Waterdeep as the young man who had given his life to safe his sister.

Bishop probably would have laughed at the irony of it, had he been here.

Liliana kept her eyes fixed on the coffin, the beautiful piece of craftsmanship laid out at the flight of the stairs on a bed of lilies and roses, and tried to ignore the by now familiar ache in her heart whenever she thought of _him_. The priest stood right behind the coffin, his face somber while he droned on with his speech, but she was too lost in her own thoughts to pay any attention to his sermon.

It was eerie how time seemed to slip past her these days.

Three days since the barbecue.

Three days since Damian had died.

Three days since she had last seen Bishop and they had said their farewell, the feel of his lips still lingering on her skin, burning in her blood.

Her memories of the past days were swirling in her mind, a loose connection of images of the events that had taken place since then, feeling a little too real and yet strangely distant at the same time, like she had been walking in a dream ever since they had parted ways on her balcony.

How the household had been on the edge of panic once they had realised what had happened. The crying maidens lining her way as she had walked down into the Great Hall, shock and disbelief edged onto their frightened faces. The servants and watchmen, once alert, running around the grounds like headless chicken, a chaos that could have easily gotten out of hand if it hadn't been for Nerdanel and their majordomo to bring everyone back to focus and to concentrate on the most important tasks at hand.

Liliana had actually helped to maintain order, her feelings too raw to care about anything that happened around her anymore. Not even the presence of the Watch had been able to lift the veils of indifference that had seemed to coil around her, her shock actually helping her to tell her little lies with just the right amount of fright to be convincing – a wonderful made-up tale about a brother saving his sister from the thugs who had come to his parent's house in the first light of dawn to violate and rob her, giving his own life so that she could escape.

And what else could she have done? Tell everyone what had really happened, that the Damian they had loved had been a monster, that _he_ had been the one behind her kidnapping, willing to kill her in order to be the only heir to their family fortune?

She simply could not do that to her parents. This whole mess had felt too much like a nightmare already, and that feeling had only gotten worse when her parents had returned later that first day. The bodies had still been strewn about the Great Hall because the Watch had not been finished with their examinations, but Liliana had asked for all bodies to be covered with blankets to spare her mother the view of Damian's wide, bulging eyes staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing.

Lifeless. Broken.

_Why could _I_ not see? How could I have been so blind?_

She had mulled over this thought again and again until she had finally been so frustrated that she could do nothing but to let it go, simply not able to bring the memories of her brother since their childhood days in line with the stranger who had awaited her in his study, looking at her with these cold, uncaring eyes that held only a mild regret, but no remorse.

To actually _know_ the truth behind his mask had made it so much worse to watch her mother break down at the news that her only son was dead, to see the proud woman succumb to her grief so completely that they had been forced to carry her to her room because she could not find the strength to walk on her own.

Even now, she was holding on to her husband's arm, pale-faced and crying silently while her eyes, too, were fixed on the coffin. Liliana's father watched everything with the same stony expression that he had worn ever since the moment he had stared at his son's broken body, which made his daughter secretly wonder whether he felt as numb and tired inside as she did.

It was even more ironic that, in a way, Damian seemed to have actually accomplished his goal. The Lily that she had been, the young girl that had dreamed of a life full of laughter and marriage and happiness was gone, dying a painful death when he had drawn that rapier to kill her, the red scar in her side now a constant reminder of that fateful night.

There was a new Liliana now, one that she did not know, scarred and hardened, and it made her feel like a stranger in her own body. It was not a feeling she appreciated, and Liliana had realised how much she had changed the moment someone from the Watch had demanded to speak with her again, late in the afternoon of that first day while she had still tried to comfort her mother who had looked like she would never stop crying again.

When Liliana had arrived at the Great Hall, she had once again looked into the sympathetic eyes of young Officer Coulter who had asked her to accompany him in his deep, cultured voice. She had followed him to the group of dead bodies, still feeling nothing when the young man had lifted the blanket from one of the corpses… and had stared into the weathered face of a stranger, a man with greasy dark hair and the first strands of silver in his unkempt beard. He had looked nothing like the bearded man from the hut, but she had put two and two together immediately when Officer Coulter had cast her once again one of his sympathetic smiles and had spoken in what she had come to think of as his funeral voice:

"Is that him?", the look on his face and the servants that had suddenly stepped up beside her indicating clearly that he had feared she would faint from the shock.

She had reacted without a moment's hesitation. She had simply waited for the length of a few heartbeats, pretending to catch her breath, and had then told him in a voice that she had hoped to sound convincingly shaking and frightened:

"Yes… yes, he is."

Officer Coulter had nodded gravely. "Yes, I thought so."

He had covered the man's face again and had stood up, pity and sympathy now mingling strongly on his honest face.

"It seems like the thugs that held you captive in the woods decided to come here and steal the gold they'd been after." He had paused for a second, his eyes meeting hers squarely. "I know that this probably cannot ease your pain right now, miss, but your brother died a true hero. He fought bravely to protect you. You should be very proud of him."

So here they were now, celebrating Damian's funeral, the funeral of a man who had come to his sister's rescue when he had heard the commotion from her room, arriving just in time to prevent the brutes from cutting away all the dress from her body and fighting the thugs single-handedly back to the Great Hall until death had finally claimed him.

The new Liliana could only shake her head in disbelief at how easy it had been to fool everyone with her lies. Even her old self would have found it hard to believe that someone like Damian should have been able to kill all these men by himself, including that wizard, without getting as much as a scratch and then falling to death almost by accident… not to mention the fact that none of the fatal wounds on the thugs had been inflicted by a rapier.

But what had her grandfather always said?

_Humanity demands to be deceived_, which obviously rang very true. People had died, yes, but now that one of these thugs seemed to match her wrong description of her kidnapper perfectly – so perfectly, in fact, that Liliana kept asking herself whether Damian had arranged for that man to be there in the first place so that the assassin could kill him, too, and then frame him for her death – everybody had immediately jumped to the most obvious conclusion.

It did not matter, though. It meant that the case would soon be closed and Bishop would be safe, and that was all she really cared about. He was never far from her mind nowadays, even more so than before, and it pained Liliana to admit that she would have given everything in her possession to be able to see him again, just once.

Not because he had kissed her.

Well, not _only_ because he had kissed her. It would be a lie to pretend that her wish had nothing to do with that last kiss they had shared, but more than folding herself into him and make his touch take away her pain she really yearned to _talk_ with him.

In the lights of the past events she had been forced to shed her skin, so to speak, the caterpillar slowly changing into a butterfly, and yet Liliana was painfully aware of the fact that none of her relatives and friends could ever learn about that new her.

Her life was built on schemes and lies now, and no matter how good her intentions had been, it made her painfully aware of the fact that she was now irreversibly separated from the people around her. And although she knew that they all loved her greatly, there were some things about her life now that she simply could not share with any of them - ever.

There was only one person in the world who had an inkling what she had been through and what she had done, and she would have given anything to talk with him again, to ask him why she did not feel more regret about the things she had done and how she had been able to let her brother fall to his death so coolly.

A hand gently touched her arm, and Liliana looked up into Cedric's warm eyes, her heart growing heavy when she saw the loving smile on his face, mingling with his grief.

Another painful truth that she could no longer avoid.

She forced herself to answer his smile, and was startled to see that the ceremony was already over and the crowd was slowly beginning to disperse, with only a few close friends remaining with her parents to see the coffin carried into the crypt.

"Do you wish to say a last good-bye to your brother?" Cedric asked, his voice full of sympathy. He had been so gentle and caring once he had gotten the news, barely leaving her side and doing his best to help her with the funeral arrangements that it made Liliana feel twice as bad about the thing that she was now about to do.

She gently disentangled her arm from his hold and shook her head. "No," she replied quietly. "There is nothing left to be said between us."

Cedric nodded, although he could not even begin to imagine what meaning was hidden behind her words, and Liliana mentally steeled herself, drawing a deep breath before she went on. "But there is something I need to discuss with you."

He smiled, that warm, loving smile that she used to love so much, and it pierced her like an arrow through her heart.

"Of course, my love – just ask, and it will be yours."

She had not thought it possible to feel even worse, but she did. For a moment, she stared into his handsome, smiling face and pondered about to just let it go, but then felt her resolve strengthening and cursed herself a coward.

_You once decided to turn a blind eye on a painful truth, Liliana. Don't make the same mistake twice!_

So she swallowed and took another deep breath, her hands feeling clammy all of a sudden from a notion that had nothing to do with the warm, sunny day.

"Please – let us take a walk!"

xxx

They followed the small path between the tombs in silence, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. The way wound up a small hill to a group of beautiful sycamore trees. An old marble bench stood beneath their spreading branches, and Liliana took in their surroundings when they reached the top. They had entered a more secluded area of the graveyard, neatly trimmed rows of hedges and blooming bushes blocking them from the view of other visitors with the Sea of Swords glittering in the distance, and she swallowed.

This place would be as good as any.

Obviously Cedric had come to the same conclusion, because he made an inviting gesture at the bench and then said:

"What did you want to discuss, my love?" in his deep and pleasant voice, that gentle smile still showing on his face.

Liliana felt her stomach lurch painfully at the sight, but there was no way to avoid this. Slowly, she lifted her left hand and gently pulled the dolphin ring from her finger, taking a moment to watch the sunlight play on the rosy pearl in the fish's snout. Then she took a deep breath, mentally steeling herself, and held it out to him without a word, not quite able to meet his eye.

He frowned when he saw what she was offering, and his voice sounded confused when he spoke.

"Love? What is the meaning of this?"

"I want to break our engagement, Cedric," Liliana said, quietly. She still could not bring herself to look him in the eyes. "I cannot marry you."

"_What_?"

That outburst finally made her look up, and her heart grew heavy when she saw him watching her with wide eyes, shock and disbelief written all over his face. His eyes darted from hers to the offered ring and back again, and he looked unusually pale all of a sudden.

"But… Lily, what…" Cedric swallowed, obviously fighting hard to control his reactions. "What are you talking about, love? This is crazy!"

He was reaching for her, his hands trying to get hold of her own, but she quickly stepped out of his reach.

"_Don't_, Cedric." Her voice came out sharper than she had intended, making them both flinch, but he did stop a mere step away from her, his hands still raised awkwardly. A hot wave of guilt washed through her, guilt that she was hurting him, guilt that she was treating him so badly, but Liliana knew that this would only get harder if she allowed him to touch her.

"I am so sorry, but... I cannot marry you anymore."

He let his arms sink back to his side, staring down at her, confusion and hurt in his eyes.

"But _why_? Lily, please… I don't understand!"

His eyes widened all of a sudden, and comprehension dawned in them.

"Is it because of our dispute at the barbecue, because of your bard training? If I had only _known_ that this is so important to you…" His hands twitched as if he wanted to reach for her again, but he restrained himself.

"You can do whatever you want, love," he replied instead, his voice imploring. "You want to be trained as a bard? You want to travel? I can make that happen. We will find a way, if you only…. you cannot be serious!"

His eyes were pleading with her now, and it almost broke her heart.

"It is not about being a bard, Cedric," she replied still in that quiet voice. "Or about our travels."

He opened his mouth to argue, and she quickly raised a hand.

"_No_. Please, let me finish."

There was that sharp voice again, the voice that belonged to the new Liliana, and it was accompanied by another wave of guilt as she saw him actually flinch at her words, as if she had struck him.

For a moment, she yearned to take him into her arms, to gently stroke his soft hair and to let his arms close around her, to give in to the illusion that he could make things right again… but she knew better. His hair would be too long and feel too silky between her fingers, his cheeks too soft and smelling of perfume instead of sun and leaves, and she would feel nothing if he pulled her close against his chest... at least not the same kind of peace that she felt whenever _he_ was holding her in his arms, as if life could not harm her as long as she was with him.

There was that painful truth again, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth as she continued to speak, the bitterness slowly creeping into her voice.

"When you asked me to marry you, I felt like the happiest girl in the world. I wanted to wear your ring, and your name. I thought being your wife was all I ever wanted in life."

He kept his silence as he stared at her, his eyes still pleading, but for the first time Liliana found the strength to hold his gaze.

"But it is not enough, Cedric," she replied gently, but firmly. "In the months that we have been together, I slowly realised that I am not happy with the idea of being _your wife_ for the rest of my days. There are many things I want to do with my life, like becoming a bard, or like seeing the world."

He opened his mouth, gaping at her, and then closed it again, obviously at a loss for what to say.

"Lily, you are… you are confused, you are in grief," he finally stated, sounding hounded. "You are not thinking clearly."

She smiled, a bitter smile that only seemed to increase the pain in her heart.

"I am in grief, yes," she replied coolly. "But I have never been thinking more clearly."

"All these things that have happened to me in the past… they made me realise something, Cedric. What I want to do with my life, and what kind of woman I want to be. And I fear that the woman I want to be and the woman that you want to marry are no longer one and the same."

She held up the ring again.

"And this is why I cannot marry you… because it would not work."

He ignored her outstretched hand and began pacing in front of her, his movements stiff and angry.

"Don't say that, Lily. I love you, and you love me!"

He gripped her shoulders and squeezed them, only once. "I can find a way, a compromise to make this work, but only if you let me. _Please_, don't throw it away!"

She knew that she probably should tell him that she loved him, too, but could not bring herself to say it. In her mind, she could still feel Bishop's hand in her hair as he had pressed herself against him in that bruising last kiss, how his touch had seemed to set every cell in her body on fire, and had to avoid Cedric's burning gaze as guilt and shame seemed to choke her once more.

It was true that she still loved him in a way, yes – but how could she say so while her mind was now clearly belonging to another? And even if she knew that said other would never be a part of her life again, that he was gone for good… how could she turn a blind eye on the feelings she still had for him, no matter how insane that might sound, considering how they had met?

Once more she could feel Bishop's hand gently stroking her hair while she had pressed her head against his bare chest, could feel the warm blood of the assassin trickling slowly down her fingers, and could see Damian's wide, pleading eyes, calling out her name right before his fall, and shook her head, gently loosening Cedric's hold on her shoulders before she stepped away from him.

She would not pretend that these things had never happened any longer, and would not shy away from making the hard decisions anymore. Her life was built on schemes and lies now, yes, but she would not add their marriage on top of them simply because it would be so much easier than to face the consequences of her actions.

"Do you not see, Cedric?" she replied very gently. "You want a wife that is there for you and your children. That waits for you back at your house and takes care to make it a real home for you and the family. You want a quiet life, to be a merchant here in Waterdeep and to see your children grow, and then your grandchildren. You don't want for things to change, to go somewhere new, or to see any distant places. Not really."

Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, and he closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing hard at her touch.

"It is not your fault, Cedric. Please do not think that. But the things you want in life, and the things that I want – they simply do not add up anymore. And if we already have to make such huge compromises now… what do you think will happen when we grow older?"

She paused, waited if he wanted to say something, but he just stared at her, his eyes so incredibly sad. Her heart called out to him in something close to pity, and she reached down to hold one of his hands.

"I am sorry, Cedric, I am so very, very sorry – but I will not marry you."

She turned his palm up to put the ring in his hand and then gently closed his fingers around it, his skin feeling cool and clammy to her touch. He was still watching her with these sad and pleading eyes, but did not reply, and so Liliana leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek before she turned around and began to walk down the path, back to her family.

She was half-expecting to hear the sound of quick steps hurrying after her over the gravel, that he would run to grab her arm and hold her back, but even as she reached the foot of the hill and was slowly making her way back to the crypt, he did not follow.

Her parents were waiting for her at the entrance of the tomb, still talking quietly to the priest and the last of their guests, her mother saying a teary good-bye to one of her closest friends. Her father saw her approaching and made his way over the path to greet her, casting her a strained smile when he pulled his daughter close against his chest.

"I wondered where you had been to," he said, his voice rough. "I am so proud of you, Liliana. The way you are dealing with all this, how you took care of the funeral, and your mother…" He leaned back to gently take her cheeks into his hands, and his smile grew tender. "I couldn't have done it without you. I am so very, very proud."

Considering her inglorious role in Damian's death and the things that she had just done to Cedric, his unexpected praise made her feel like the lowliest creature on Faerun all over again, but Liliana just smiled and whispered a quiet _Thank you_ nonetheless, her heart now beating painfully in her chest.

How was she going to tell them? _How?_

Her mother stepped over and gave her a wet kiss on her cheek, lovingly ruffling her daughter's hair in the process.

"My baby," she murmured thickly, her voice sounding as if she was on the edge of tears again. "And? Did you already say good-bye to Cedric? Is he coming over again later this evening?"

Liliana swallowed hard as her eyes went first to her father, then her mother.

_Courage, remember? You survived the hut, and Damian's betrayal. You can see this through!_

"There is something I have to tell you… about Cedric and me, and one other thing."

They looked at her expectantly, and for a moment Liliana really did not know how to begin, her heart sinking when she saw the light frown on her father's face as if he had caught something in the sound of her voice.

"On second thought... I think it might be best if we all sit down."

xxx

The handle of her balcony door gave a soft, creaking sound as Liliana opened the glass door to let in the warm summer air. A mild breeze tugged at her hair, and she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the quiet of her own room feeling like a balm to her weary self after the excitements of the day.

The talk with her parents had been even more difficult than she had expected. They had been stunned when she had informed them about her decision not to marry Cedric, which had to be expected, but the mood had gotten downright unpleasant when Liliana had revealed that she not only did not intend to marry the young man that they had come to love like a son but that she had even made plans to leave Waterdeep behind for a while... and to do so on her own, without an entourage of armed guards.

Her father had seemed to understand her desperate need to get away, but her mother had started to throw a tantrum that had not even stopped once they had reached the carriage and even had gone on long after they had arrived back at their home, her shrill voice making the glass of the windows rattle.

Liliana sighed heavily, then opened the door even further and stepped out onto the balcony, her eyes blinking against the bright light of the early afternoon sun. She had felt bad during the whole discussion, really bad, knowing that her decision was bound to cause her mother such distress so quickly after Damian's death, but she had stuck to her arguments nonetheless, sad but unyielding, until finally her father had intervened on her behalf and a compromise had been reached, his open disappointment at her behaviour cutting his daughter like a knife.

But it could not be helped. Her mind was made up now, and she would not stay.

Her feet slowly carrying her towards the balustrade seemingly on their own account, Liliana stood there for a while, her hands now resting firmly on the skillfully worked iron bars, her eyes wandering over the park and down to the lake, and she sighed when her heart grew heavy once more.

_How many times did you step out here onto the balcony, Liliana,_ whispered the soft voice in her head. _Knowing that he will not return, and your eyes still searching the garden for a sign of him?_

Of course she knew.

But although her mind had accepted the fact that he would never come back, her heart seemed unwilling to reach the same conclusion and therefore simply grew heavier and heavier with every day that passed without a trace of Bishop.

She still could not fully understand why she could not stop feeling that way about him now, how that one nightmarish night had been able turn her whole world upside down so completely and change it forever.

But no matter how guilty and confused a part of her seemed to be about her feelings, at first, she had been certain that he _would_ come back – and who could have blamed her, remembering how he had looked at her in the first light of the sun as he had slowly crossed the distance between them to pull her into that last kiss, so full of longing and need and something that had tasted almost like despair?

It had not been too far-fetched to think that he _would_ return, for whatever reason, and so she had left her balcony door open when she had gone to sleep, always half-dreading and half-longing for his visit in the dead of night.

But now, three days later and with still no sign of him, it was time for her to accept the truth that he _was_ gone, and that he would never come back.

_And why should he_, she thought somewhat bitterly, her grip tightening unconsciously around the iron rail under her hands.

There was nothing here to hold him, after all - now that he had his reward and the unfinished business between them had been resolved in a way, and since that last kiss had obviously meant not a fraction to him of what it had meant to her... there was indeed nothing here to call him back.

So even if he thought better of her now and might even feel attracted to her in a way, she was still nothing but a spoiled merchant's daughter...

_And you just _look_ like her, Liliana. Nothing more._

Her heart gave another pang at that thought, the unexpectedly sharp pain leaving her torn inside.

_You should be glad that he is gone_, that soft voice whispered coolly, matter-of-factly. _Consider how you have met, what kind of man he is. Nothing good would have come of it, and you can be glad that you got out of the whole mess so easily._

Of course.

It was all true, and letting go of him would be the absolute sane thing to do. But since sanity seemed to be the one thing that had gone missing from her life of late, Liliana found it hard to convince her mind to forget the memory of his kiss and his touch, since it was the only thing nowadays that made her feel even the least bit alive.

_This is why I have to leave_, she thought determinately, her grip around the cool iron almost painful now. _There is no place in this house where I do not see _his_ face when I look around, or Damian's, and I will go mad if I_ _cannot get away..._

There was a sharp knock on her door and Liliana turned around to see Nerdanel standing in the doorway of her room, watching her ward with her usual guarded expression on her face.

"Nedda – come in," Liliana exclaimed with a smile as she stepped back through the balcony door, doing her best to shake off her dark mood. "How is my mother?"

"Recovering," the elderly woman replied somewhat dryly as she walked up to her ward. "Although I fear that there won't be enough smelling salt left in this mansion to keep your mother alive and breathing if things keep developing this way."

The smile on her face faltered a little under another onslaught of guilt, but Liliana resolutely fought it back, a part of her feeling vaguely surprised that it seemed to get easier and easier the longer she tried.

_Well, you certainly got a lot of exercise with it during these past days._

"I know it may be hard for her now, but… if I leave tomorrow or in a few weeks will make no difference to her misery, and she will recover swiftly once I'm gone."

Nerdanel had stepped close enough for Liliana to see the faint lines around her eyes, now standing out in sharp relief as the half-elf frowned, her surprisingly sharp gaze never leaving Liliana's face.

"Have you really thought this through, child?", she asked, her voice sounding severe.

Liliana swallowed. It was hard to keep her resolve under that piercing gaze, but she discreetly clawed her hands into the folds of her skirt, drawing strength from the sudden strain.

"Yes, I have. I mean… maybe it is too short after the funeral and everything, but I simply need to get away from here for a while – and an opportunity like this will not present itself so soon again."

"You know that Deliah and Korban came over yesterday to offer their condolences? I asked them about their plans for the future, and now that the fair here is over they actually intend to go South, to Baldur's Gate – and they offered to take me with them."

At first, Liliana had not believed her ears when Deliah had made the suggestion, her sudden excitement actually thawing the icy coils around her heart. Ever since Damian had died, she had stared up to Selune during her sleepless nights and had prayed silently that she could get away from it all, that her parents would allow her to go… and how could she doubt that the Moon Maiden had answered her prayer now that the master bard and her guardian were travelling in her direction, and were actually willing to take her with them?

"It is the perfect solution, and my parents would have never agreed to let me go if it wasn't for Deliah and her offer. I mean, what can happen to me when I travel with these two?"

For a moment, her eyes wandered to her window and the balcony behind, and she felt her heart grow heavy once more as that image of Bishop came unbidden to her mind, how he had sat on the balustrade, ready to climb back into the tree, and how his mask, usually set in stone, had seemed to crumble when their eyes had met across the distance, leaving him looking so vulnerable, so unguarded all of a sudden...

Liliana swallowed. She really needed to get away from this place, from all the memories that haunted her.

"So I will visit my grandparents in Baldur's Gate, and I will use the time to think things over… and to get them all back in perspective."

To be honest, that was not all that she was planning to do. But paying her grandparents a long overdue visit was all that her parents had been willing to agree to, and Liliana did not want to tempt fate by mentioning that she planned to start an education as a bard on top of breaking her engagement.

She knew that she had to be incredibly grateful already that her father had been so understanding and supportive because without his aid she would never have been able to convince her mother to let her go – so _go to Baldur's Gate first and send them a note about your change of plans later_ would now be the name of her game.

Nerdanel did not blink an eye during her lengthy excurse, still watching her ward with that piercing stare, and Liliana had to admit that it began to make her feel a bit uncomfortable.

"I meant with your marriage, child", the woman finally replied, still in that unnervingly calm voice. Liliana drew a deep breath and walked over to her wardrobe, the wooden doors of her closet standing wide open with some dresses and blouses spread out on her bed and other various pieces of furniture.

These few words laid a finger on a wound that was still way too fresh to have healed, and so Liliana pretended to go through her garments like she had done before she had decided to open the balcony door, simply to get away from that a little too knowing stare for a while.

"Look, I know that you said I should think about it, and I did. I just don't… I do not think that Cedric really wants to marry a woman like me. He has so different ideas about what his wife should be like, and what his life should be like…" She paused for a moment to cast Nerdanel a quick glance out of the corner of her eye. "It is not that I do not love him, Nedda, but… I do not want a marriage that is build on so many compromises, and I do not want to disappoint him."

She quickly lifted her hand before her governess could chime in.

"I know that you will tell me now that every marriage is about compromises, and I know that. There is no perfect match. But do you not think that it should be a better match than what we have, Cedric and I? What if I marry him now and then regret it for the rest of my life? I could not stand it, and he deserves so much better."

_Nice speech, Liliana_, whispered the soft voice in her mind, mockingly sweet. _A sound argumentation, softly spoken, and so deeply worried about his well-being. Keep saying this, and one day you might even believe it._

_Oh, shut up, you_, she thought furiously. _You are not helping!_

"I see," Nerdanel stated calmly, nothing in her posture indicating that she doubted her ward's sincerity. But then she raised her eyebrows in that slightly mocking way that only Nerdanel could do, and there was a sudden twinkle in her eyes that made Liliana's stomach churn forebodingly, like a ten-year-old who had just been caught with her hand still in the cookie jar.

"This sudden... _realisation_ would not have something to do with the handsome stranger that I saw on your balcony the morning Damian died?"

_What?_

Liliana tried hard to control her reactions, her mind screaming at her not to let the woman see, to keep up the charade, but no matter how good her intentions, all she could do was to gape at her governess in shock, for a moment completely at a loss for words as her heart began hammering so fast that she feared it might jump right out of her chest, saving her the trouble of dying from sheer embarrassment.

_She saw. How we parted. How we _kissed_!_

_... merciful gods._

For the length of a heartbeat, she closed her eyes, desperately wishing for the earth to simply open and swallow her whole. But that was a foolish notion, and so she reluctantly opened her eyes again to face her governess, who was still watching her intently in return, obviously expecting an answer.

"If you think that I left Cedric for _him,_" she began, her voice catching at the last word while her cheeks now felt as if they were on fire. "To run away with him or something like that – no, I did not." She took a deep breath, the sudden ache in her heart mingling painfully with her embarrassment. "He is _gone_, Nedda, and he is not coming back. But he… he showed me that something between Cedric and me is not right, that I was missing something that I did not even know I missed. So… yes, maybe a little."

For what felt like an eternity, Nerdanel watched her with that piercing stare, making it very hard for Liliana not to flinch under the almost overwhelming weight of her gaze. Then the woman smiled, and the twinkle in her eyes turned mischievous in a heartbeat.

"Well, I have to admit that _he_ does indeed kiss with a _lot _of passion."

That comment brought the heat in Liliana's cheeks to a boil.

"_Nedda!_" she hissed, scandalized, feeling like her face had to be positively glowing by now.

The half-elf lifted a slender hand to squeeze Liliana's shoulder reassuringly, casting her ward a soothing smile, but that mischievous glint did not completely leave her eyes.

"I only want to see you happy, child. If you think that this is the right decision… so be it."

„He left, Nedda," Liliana replied, a part of her wanting to squirm when she heard the treacherous quiver in her voice, only fueling the sudden sting in her eyes. "He kissed me, and then he left without looking back - not once. I would not call that a happy ending."

Something close to pity appeared in the woman's eyes, and she gave her ward's shoulder another squeeze, the understanding in her gaze like a balm to Liliana's weary self.

„I know, child," Nerdanel stated, her voice very gentle. "But all you can do now is to move on and face the future as it comes. Do not allow for the past to wear you down!"

Liliana watched the woman who had always been closest to her, and felt a shiver run down her spine when she suddenly remembered the knowing look that Nerdanel had given her when she had entered the Great Hall on the day of Damian's death and had begun to tell her story to the Watch, as if the various pieces of a puzzle had started to fall into place, finally weaving a pattern that made sense.

_She saw Bishop on my balcony, how he kissed me. I wonder what else she saw that night?_

Liliana had already asked herself from time to time how she had gotten away with her story so easily, how the Watch could actually have accepted her tale how Damian had died, and her eyes widened as she realised all of a sudden that it obviously had not been her story alone that had helped to solve the situation.

For the length of a heartbeat, the two women simply stared at each other, one with a prominent twinkle in her eyes while the other's widened in sudden understanding. Then the half-elf gave her ward another knowing smile and turned her eyes to the closet, obviously intending to change the subject.

"But you most likely did not ask me to come to your room to interrogate you on your broken engagement. What can I do for you, child?"

Liliana blinked, her mind still reeling with these unexpected revelations, but then she mentally shook herself.

_Focus, remember? _

"I need your help, Nedda," she replied eventually, her voice quivering ever so slightly. "You see… I have this closet full of clothes but none of them seem fit for the travel I have in mind, so…"

She sighed. "Korban and Deliah want to leave tomorrow, and I know that they said that they will wait for me for as long as it takes to finish my preparations, but I would really hate to slow them down. They have done so much for me already, and I do not want to be a burden."

Nerdanel nodded, and Liliana went on, feeling surprisingly pleased at her governess' quiet agreement.

"So I need travel clothing, and a backpack, and other things that I need for the road, like a bedroll or… I don't know."

She made a helpless gesture with her hand.

"To be honest, I have no idea what I need to go on a journey like this, so you see – I am in desperate need of your help, Nedda. As always."

Nerdanel chuckled. "Well, then we will have to see what I can do."

She stepped up beside her ward to take a closer look at the closet, her brows furrowed in concentration.

"I think there are some things burrowed here in this wooden monster that will actually serve your purpose," she continued after a short pause, her voice thoughtful. "And I will send one of the girls to purchase the rest of the things that I have in mind."

She gave her ward another sharp look, lifting one hand to emphasize her words.

"And you, child, should use the time to pack your things and make yourself invisible for the rest of the day. If your mother should see some of the things that I will add to your travel gear, she might decide to lock you in a room and throw away your key until you get back to your senses."

Liliana could not help but to laugh. "Thank you, Nedda – I really do not know what I would do without you."

The ghost of a smile flickered across the half-elf's face as she shook her head in mock disbelief, and Liliana's smile grew serious as a sudden wave of gratitude welled through her.

"No, I mean it," she said quietly as she reached down to press the other woman's hand, her voice carrying far more meaning than her words alone. "Thank you… for everything."

"I am there for you, Liliana," the half-elf replied calmly when she pressed her ward's hand firmly in return, her eyes shining with emotion all of a sudden. "Always. Remember that."

Then she straightened her shoulders and blinked her eyes, and her stoic mask was back in place once more. "But do not let us get sentimental, child. There are many things that need to be done, so it is best to get started."

Liliana could not help but to smile at these words, feeling as if a heavy weight had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders. "Do you even know how to spell 'sentimental', Nedda?" she teased her governess, another peal of laughter escaping her as she saw the dark look on Nerdanel's face.

"Cheeky monkey," the woman murmured primly as she turned to make for the door, but her eyes were twinkling as she did.

Still smiling, Liliana continued to roam through her various dresses, her mood lightening by the minute. There was still a friend left in this world who knew and understood even about the new her, and tomorrow she would leave for Baldur's Gate, finally beginning a new life and moving on to pastures new.

She could hardly wait!

Humming quietly to herself, she took the blouse with the angel wings out of the closet and put it down onto her bed, frowning when her eyes caught a dark shape lying on the floor, peeking out from under the blankets.

She kneeled down to pick it up, and her heart gave a painful leap when she stared down at the roughly carved lily now lying in her hand, the wood feeling smooth under her fingers.

_The lily! I threw it away when Damian came in, and it must have rolled under the bed..._

For a long moment, she could not breathe as her heart was squeezed cruelly in her chest, a wild range of emotions raging through her, sadness and longing mingling with regret and half a dozen other feelings that she could not name right now, all evoked by the sight of this simple carving.

She blinked forcefully to clear her sight, and then stepped over to her dressing table to pull a handkerchief out of one of the drawers, carefully wrapping the carving into the linen cloth before she placed it gently onto her bed, right beside the clothes that she would take with her on her journey.

_He_ had made that carving back at the hut, and even if it had never been a gift, it was the only thing that she had left to remind her of him – of all the things that had gone bad in her life of late, but of all the good ones as well.

She would do as Nerdanel had told her, would face the future without allowing her past to wear her down... and to be honest – what could wait for her now that she could not handle, considering all the things that she had already survived in the past?

_For remembrance, _she thought, her fingers wandering gently over the small linen package_. As a reminder... and for luck!_

A new life.

A new chance.

She could hardly wait indeed.


End file.
